Splendor  

available on Amazon and at Kelsay Books, January 2021 

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cover and trailer artist Katherine Rogerson Moore's website: http://mybluebirdofhappiness.blogspot.com/p/artist.html

 
 
Using Your Words Cover.JPG
yahoodips cover.jpg
 

from Using Your Words

 

Burden of the Past

 

Such high expectations for years and years, and, always,

you fell short of them – you’ve re-read what you wrote,

 

recognized you were doing your best – a familiar girl,

difficult, unmeasured; everyone was. Half finished

 

reading Jackson Bate’s book on Johnson for your last exam,

exhausted but couldn’t sleep, you suddenly decided

 

to walk all over town, looking for another notebook,

which you found at Store 24, and a pen. Bate made

 

you believe you have conviction, and his affection

drove you round the corner, down the street,

 

back up the dormitory stairs and to your room.

There will always be something to say.

Good Girl

 

Springtime and the peepers cry

out for each other,

 

and the trail is darker than

the darkening air,

 

and from up ahead of you, shirt-tails flying,

bare feet pumping the pedals

 

as she disappears into

the sightless night,

 

Louisiana’s voice drifts down,

“I had a dream last night

 

that I could lick myself all

over, like a dog, until

 

I became invisible.”

And though you cannot see

 

her, you know that

voice, how it has changed her

 

face as she starts to sing,

“Cause I’m free,

 

I’m free falling.”

What You Mean

 

The moon is only visible

because the sun

undoes its darkness.

 

Some loves you choose.

Some love chooses you.

Call it love and wish it love

 

when what you mean is

something else – a knot

you can’t untie.

 

Unlatch and open.

 

A thousand thoughts fly out,

white with hope of light

that may not break.

from Yahoodips

Last Year

 

We look through your pocket calendar, starting

at the back, birthdays, phone numbers, accounts,

medications, dosages, refill information. “He

never started another,” she tells me. We flip to

December, the family Christmas on the twenty-

ninth, an iron shot, rehab three days a week,

her seventieth two days before you died, and

the appointment you kept that last Monday.

 

“He knew,” she says. Sunday night you told her you

thought you might be admitted the next day; you felt

that bad. Thanksgiving and the half of us who made it

penciled in. September and a soccer game. I had to walk

you to and from the car. August and a trip to the lake.

July and a badminton tournament in the yard, getting

the kids out of the house so you could nap. June, May,

April, March and February, every week another set of

doctor, lunch, and dinner dates, people up to visit.

 

When did you decide? One day in the pharmacy when

you stood by those little leather volumes, the new

year stamping across them in gold? Did you linger or

hurry past? Did you glance up at the sunlight skating

across the windowglass, a strange woman on the

sidewalk, tightening her scarf around her open throat?

 

Did you step outside, head home, the medicine forgotten,

and the road familiar as the backs of the vivid dreams that

woke you every morning before daybreak when you’d

lie on your half of the bed and watch morning reinvent

itself, marching its fingertips of light over the hills,

like a mother distracting her little boy with play?       

The Love Story

 

Frankie keeps asking

if you’re done being dead

 

yet. He wanders away

from the kitchen,

 

unsatisfied. Outside

the sky finds a raven,

 

black as blindness,

outlined in wings.

 

Later a sideways snow

will wrap the stones

 

in purest white. We are

growing older without you.

Yahoodips

 

The days go

by, the possible,

the impossible.

 

You always let us

find you.

 

What more is there

to say, though all else

repeats itself? You would

want to start over.

 

The rest of us move in

what insists on being

a forward motion.

 

Ready or not,

here we come.    

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Moore has taught writing at Lawrence Academy since 1983. Published in 2021, Splendor is her third book of poetry. In 2017, Kelsay Books published Using Your Words, a book-length collection of narrative verse exploring the lives of 3 generations of women in the same family as, without a map, they navigate the choices of the past sixty years. Moore's chapbook Yahoodips, a collection written in memory of her father, was published by Finishing Line Press in 2010. Several journals and magazines have recognized and published her poetry and short fiction. Her essays about education are available through NAIS. Her books are available through their publisher and on Amazon.

Contact

For any inquiries, please contact Laura Rogerson Moore.

Tel: 978-877-6705 | lmoore@lacademy.edu

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