Tributaries
The first poem I ever wrote about being abused , was my silence,
a song less
fermata
pausing outside a kitchen window sill where friends were too busy baking bread to see the picture my breath left on the glass
so I molted under the Willow Oak where acorns stratify under snowmelts gathering momentum with other tributaries leaking into the roaring river’s
crescendo
perched between riparian leaves
fortissimo
If you’re not familiar with Michelle… you might want to check out her address:)
Moccasins at Meadow Arc 
Oh my goodness, Kimberly… wow. That is a beautiful, if heartbreaking, poem.
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Ty:) While in prayer this weekend it really hit me that at times humans are part of the Lord saying No to oppression.. abuse… and so it is good … when called to.. to speak out against it.. am thankful Michelle is mobilizing others to this task.. the more of us who speak out.. the louder.. our song…
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Did u know.. ur advice about ur writer’s box encouraged Stephanie and I beyond our fears of not having the whole story.. to just write a bit.. for fun.. not trying to find meaning or ending etc.. so Ty:) I love the idea of just writing to write it.. regardless… am debating on posting for u lol..
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I’m so glad to hear that! I hope you will post them sometime 🙂
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I guess that’s all the encouragement I needed lol.. will post right now for u:)
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Such a good poem for Michelle ❤️
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🙂
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I discovered this poem through Michelle’s blog.
Your poem is short and brief but poignant and powerful.
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Thank you for adding your voice to this important cause
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🙂
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