Barbara Crooker: In the Middle
Each day, we must learn
again how to love, between morning’s quick coffee
and evening’s slow return.
Barbara Crooker: Nearing Menopause, I Run Into Elvis At Shoprite,
line thumps and grinds, the honky tonk piano moves like an ivory
river, full of swampy delta blues.
Barbara Crooker: Star of Wonder, Star of Light
It’s Christmas, the year before the accident, when the earth
still seemed fixed. My husband and children are hanging
lights on the big pine tree
Barbara Crooker: Poem For My Birthday
Send me a heart of gratitude for this long afternoon
of goldenrod light falling across my typewriter
and a sky so blue I want to bite it like an apple.
Barbara Crooker: Sustenance
It’s hard to remember we swim in an ocean
of great love, so easy to fall into bickering
like little birds at the feeder