This past Monday, I participated in a public protest against efforts by a local group to ban more than 200 “inappropriate” books from the libraries in our school district. (Think Native Son by Richard Wright. Beloved by Toni Morrison. To…
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What follows isn’t a poem. It’s a playful inventory of basic intentions that guide my creative work—indeed, my daily living. It sets forth how I aspire to conduct myself as a “maker” and as a…
What follows is a “found poem.” To create it, I took lines from a story I’d read this week on Braided Way and rearranged them into a poem, leaving the words mostly verbatim. I want to thank…
FISHING FOR WORDS for creatives who write You stand on the edge of a shallow lake, casting your line, waiting for bites— some days, not a nibble….
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…
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…
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,…
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…
A brief roundup for May, as I’m currently out of studio, traveling with Jihong and Nathan. We’re on a whirlwind roadtrip to North Carolina, Virginia, and Washington, DC. Once we get back to South Dakota,…
My goodness, what an outpouring of reader responses to “Gentle Way Home,” the cento I offered last week! The feedback has prompted me to do a follow-up, especially since you, like so many others, might…
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