Dance Her Song

She is a Prisoner A broken, brilliant almost Secreting dances Ferocious or Soft Burning to be Born Trembling beneath The skin Unseen Dying to burst out Into the light Hoping against hope to Not go unsung Into the dreamless...read more

While You Were Away

by Kathleen MacGregor While you were away, I swept up a bit And shelved the books That had been piled into Tottering columns and Spread across the Ottoman. Piles you shifted each time You came home. Piles  I insisted were Exactly where they needed to be. While you were away, It seems I took over The fussing, The irritation with clutter, The discontent. The resentment. While you were away, I woke up early, and Made...read more

Thanksgiving

by Kathleen MacGregor On Thanksgiving, when we all come together, gathering up our stories and our stances in our arms, like crops from the field; When we come bearing insistent separateness, proud individuality, spilling our armloads clumsily all over each other, because we have come with more than we can carry, there is a grief. The grief pours down from the middle of us and pools on the ground at our feet. We...read more