Category: Poetry

2025, My Poetry, Poetry, Something Small Every Day2 Comments

Something Small, Every Day (or so): Thoughts While Watching Mulholland Drive

Charlotte Hamrick

Thoughts While Watching Mulholland DriveDays passin a movie reelof lifeLovers, villains, heroestread across our stage Sometimes we forgetwe are the directors of our movieable to place bodies manage emotionsWhy hold our breathduring chaos until confusion dies downWe can fill our lungs with free willcreate scenes to suitour narrative Continue reading Something Small, Every Day (or so): Thoughts While Watching Mulholland Drive

2025, About Writing, Gardening, My Poetry, Photography, Poetry, Prose poetry, Something Small Every Day4 Comments

Something Small, Every Day (or so): To the Little British Girl

Charlotte Hamrick

To the Little British Girl on Gardener’s World who grew her first garden this year. Your tour of the garden was just what my tired and sad eyes needed this morning. Walking the garden in your pink wellies, you proudly showed the dahlias you grew from seed, the roses you rescued from black spot, tending them with care and fresh compost, the tomatoes (toe-mah-toes) and peppers bursting with life, and everything you declared as “lovely”. Little British girl, you are lovelier than the loveliest flower. Your delight is contagious and a reminder to observe the small things, to nurture the … Continue reading Something Small, Every Day (or so): To the Little British Girl

2025, Magnetic Poetry, My Poetry, Poetry, Something Small Every Day1 Comment

Something Small, Every Day (or so): Pie in the Sky

Charlotte Hamrick

Pie in the Skysmile ferociously with steelyeyes and stormy visionsmash the windows closedAgainst your intentbreak the glass fling its shardsInto clouds of resolvecutting your lingering ghostskiss the nakedness of avoluminous sky Today I used words from the Magnetic Poetry Kit. The embolden words were in the list. Photo by me. Continue reading Something Small, Every Day (or so): Pie in the Sky

2025, My Poetry, Poetry, Something Small Every DayLeave a comment

Something Small, Every Day (or so): Frostbiting

Charlotte Hamrick

FrostbitingSailing in cold weather,sharks trolled the provincialreefs, enforcing a mandate of approved colors within the linesand sanctionedinterspecies communication.They believed they were disguised beneath the smooth skin and welcoming grinof the dolphin, butsmaller fish are quick and quietgliding through dark, turbulent waves,avoiding the gnashing teeth and bellowsof sharks in dolphin clothing.They endured the frostbiting pressure,learned to float in icy waters untilUp, up, upthey rose to where light was meltingthe menace at last.* Frostbiting is a new to me word whose definition immediately made me think of the relentless clamp down on free speech in the last several years. (I do not … Continue reading Something Small, Every Day (or so): Frostbiting

2025, Cento, My Poetry, Poetry, Something Small Every Day8 Comments

Something Small, Every Day (or so): Exhale Slowly

Charlotte Hamrick

Exhale SlowlyAfter the foot departs in theirSearch for meaning andA good woman done wrong,The earth moves and five minutesAgo rain tapped out. Today’s lessonIs humility. Up to down, right to left,I follow. What is the color Of love or a shadow’s weight?Above the sky or below the waves,Some days pain drags behind meNo matter what. Exhale slowly that longTunnel ribbed in silence. In keeping with my intent to create something small every day and to resurrect my poetry practice, I plan to publish on this site one of my poems every few days. I won’t do it every day because … Continue reading Something Small, Every Day (or so): Exhale Slowly

2025, My Poetry, Poetry, Prose poetry, Something Small Every DayLeave a comment

In Sleep

Charlotte Hamrick

A skift of fluff whispers along the floor next to Buddy’s bed. He is there, softly snuffling in his sleep, a bit of raspberry tongue peeking out. A twitch of his feet accompanies a yip-yip from the shimmery world behind closed eyes where he runs and barks with Sammy, who is much missed but is alive again in Buddy’s memory and dreams. A raw bit of prose inspired by this prompt and by this suggestion: “Something small, every day.” I’m trying. :) Continue reading In Sleep