simple parentheses could not hold you yo(u outgrew th)em and can no longer be called an afterthought © Sarah Whiteley
I am learning finally how to be vulnerable, how to ask for help, and how to lean on friends and trust that they'll stand steady beneath the weight. I'm coming to this lesson rather late in life, but this is a good step forward. But I've reached a point where I find I need to … Continue reading 3.4.2015
Five years ago today, one tiny little poem marked the beginning of ebbtide. Five years! Am I celebrating? Hell yes! I am so grateful for the countless ways in which this little space on the internet has helped me - as an emotional outlet, a sounding board, a source of writerly camaraderie, and a place … Continue reading Celebrating!
I had determined (after the last) to no longer offer up the root of myself let it beat (I thought) for nothing other than to mark the time passing beneath my skin but then hands (so mercilessly capable) dug in and I am as earth freshly turned and raw and the root (remembering yearning) has … Continue reading turned earth
this is the moment when I am unearthed, when I am at last unbound by mundane constraints - now, when the birds at their riotous best, launch their relief that yes, day again brings light in a canon shared by wrens and robins and flitting juncos from trees whose slow buds are indecently near to … Continue reading spring walk, 6 a.m.
© Sarah Whiteley
that late August afternoon after sweating unwieldy boxes up the three flights alone I paused for a moment's rest and touched the ache of this space not yet made my own but thought at least how lucky, to have the hopeful green of a locust tree to nod in at me not an hour later … Continue reading time once more to bloom
to one who waited quiet as dust hidden and pale as peonies biding time beneath March rains I heard the scuttle of your yearning crossing the grass beneath pale water skies our unutterances have left us without bearing and meager as hungry for one another as spring buds for a nearer sun © Sarah Whiteley
I have been pondering the madness of love with the thought of you like a fat spider perched in its web plucking at threads I feel the reverberations here with a strange pang like rising too high too quickly above the treeline there's madness there in the small bits remembered don't believe me? look around … Continue reading I have been pondering…
in these leaves we are writ in the golden greens of breathing springs and in softened hues of fading fires I will hold you as memory in winter and not feel cold come creeping I will keep you as kisses in summer and in sprouting drown but once a year and always in your earth … Continue reading letters to _____ – ii