Linda's Poems

The End I check the mail, see an envelope from my sister, and know it's the end. I wait to open it, drive to the beach, get s...

Thursday 2/16/06 Block 3 Open the Box I don't dare. Not yet. The ribbons are still tied with a red bow. But, that color is a hint I'...

Tuesday 2/7/06 Block 2 Stranger When my husband looks at me, he sees a wife making his supper, putting his next day's lunch together, br...

January 24, 2006 Block 1 Sunday with Kylie When I left you on Sunday afternoon, you were curled on your side like a fiddlehead fern newly sp...

Tuesday 3/18/08 At the Other End of the Street Sometimes we played baseball: rocks for home plate and second, a crack on the sidewal...

Thursday 4/30/09 After Writing Too Many Poems I think I'm poemed out. I need a break from figurative thinking. I need an afte...

Thursday 3/19/09 Poem inspired by Dead Poets' Society Beads We were getting ready to go to church. I put on decent slacks and a...