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You Can Do This

“I don’t think I can do this,” I told my friend Mary.* The two of us were meeting on Zoom to discuss a collaborative project. Before digging into business, we were checking in with each…
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Again

Perhaps like you, I’ve been preoccupied this week with the terrible events in Israel-Gaza. Please accept this new poem as a gesture of shared grief and, yes, despite everything, shared hope. Always hope. Like a…
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Legs

In 1982, for a college trimester, I studied and did “service work” in the newly independent nation of Belize. Looking back, I don’t think the Belizeans much desired or needed my “service,” but the experience…
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The Secret of Birds

THE SECRET OF BIRDS Phyllis Cole-Dai  Outside the window, an hour before dawn, when night weighs heaviest on the neck of the world, one bird with pluck begins to sing I’m here   I’m here   I’m…
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Names Will Carry

NAMES WILL CARRY Phyllis Cole-Dai                         for Wanda and Tom I carry your names into the mountains you loved, though mountains have no need of names— they know each pilgrim that passes through by scent…
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Ode to a Flat Tire

On this Mother’s Day in the US, you may be celebrating a special someone in your life who has “mothered” you or whom you yourself have had the privilege of “mothering.” My young chap, Nathan,…
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Mother Tree

Yeah, yeah, I know. Mother’s Day in the US isn’t until next week. But when I began this poem, I didn’t know it was going to be about mothers. Or about tree rings. That’s the beauty of…
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This Moment

You ever gone through a long stretch where major responsibilities were pulling you in several directions at once? When all you could do was breathe and keep going, trusting that you’d get to the end…
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