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One Citizen

July 3, 2026 by Rosemerry

fearing the flag
no longer represents me
I start to fly the flag

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One Strange Gift

July 2, 2026 by Rosemerry

 

so grateful to share 
it with you—
this loneliness

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The Unknown Women

July 1, 2026 by Rosemerry


 
 
They, too, once had gardens filled 
with succulent dark leaves and firm
swollen roots they planted to feed 
their family, their community, themselves. 
They, too, would walk the rows and tug 
at weeds and make small, quirky bouquets
to take to the graves of their loved ones. 
I don’t know why their gardens are gone now. 
Perhaps covered in ash from wildfire. 
Perhaps bombed out and torn up by war. 
Perhaps transformed to dust by drought. 
Or perhaps they are simply too old now 
to pick up the trowel, the shovel,
the hoe. But the women remember 
how they marveled at the pea vines climbing 
the fence to produce a profusion of sweet 
green pods dangling on the wire. 
I long to feed them from these beds, 
if not the food itself, feed them at least the ongoing
dream of garden, as someday I, too,
will be offered the dream through the hands 
and thoughts of another woman who finds herself
standing in the midst of abundance longing
to share it with all the women who can’t 
find their way into the garden today.
Not knowing how to bless them, I bless them anyway
as I have been blessed, and I transplant calendula,
deadhead the cosmos, harvest
heads of garlic, brush the loose dirt away. 

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At the Edge

June 30, 2026 by Rosemerry


 
 
The bright red glow of wildfire flared up 
into the night, a terrible, beautiful, changing glow.
We couldn’t not look, students of fire 
that we are, and I was suddenly too aware 
of the dry and brittle parts of myself, places
parched as these Cimarron mountains. 
How easily it can all go up. 
We are asked to live this life
that can combust in an instant,
asked to pull the unstoppable into our lungs.
The glow continued to blaze, to leap up. 
It burned. I could not stop watching
the tower of flame, the way it charged the night.

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Kinship

June 29, 2026 by Rosemerry


for James and Elena
 
 
We three sit
on large rocks
in the middle
of the river
like an earthbound
constellation. As
we speak and
splash, I see
in my mind
the invisible lines
that join us,
and we become
a new shape
we can use
to navigate through
this day, our
daily gift. Is
it any wonder
when we rise,
we are shining?

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Learning from the High Wire Walkers

June 28, 2026 by Rosemerry


 
 
First, they start close to the floor,
practice walking heel to toe, practice
bouncing and turning and gazing 
at a distant object instead of looking
down at their feet. As the stakes
and the rope get higher, they 
begin to practice failure. Practice
hanging from the wire for long
periods of time. Practice holding
their own weight. This. Perhaps 
this is what we are doing now 
with democracy. Practicing
how to hold up our weight. 
Don’t look down. Don’t look down. 
View it all as practice. Trust that balance
depends on tension. Trust that
every step matters.

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In the Junkyard of the Heart

June 27, 2026 by Rosemerry

all those feelings of brokenness
I tried to throw away
now shining in the starlight

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Hanging Out with the Benedictines

June 26, 2026 by Rosemerry


 

                  for Sister Roseann and the Monastic Congregation of St. Scholastica
 
On the left wrist of the nun 
with the silver hair and soft eyes
was a bracelet made by a child.
Small white cubes with black all caps
proclaimed, “NEVER GROW UP.”
With an impish shrug of her shoulders 
she explained she might have written
“NEVER GIVE UP.” And I thought 
how for fifteen hundred years
her order has flourished through
the rise and fall of the Mongol Empire, 
The British Empire, the Aztecs, 
Bart Simpson, Mickey Mouse. 
Has grown through the introduction of zero
as a standalone number and paper money,
gunpowder and windmills and the compass. 
Has seen the creation of moveable type
and the steam engine, has witnessed 
the telegraph and email and bots that answer the phone.
And I felt it inside her, still growing,
the devotion of centuries, the kind of faith 
that lives on past plastic bracelets,
cherry Twizzlers and Instagram, a community
grown in the deep, rich soil of humility, 
simplicity, hospitality, moderation and prayer.
I felt it in her open smile, in the
kind way she held my hand in hers,
in the way she reframed her work
as faithfulness, I felt her trust
that some things continue to prosper
against all odds, this, the gift of never 
growing up, of never giving up, 
of ever growing beyond understanding.

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While Standing in the Field of Fireflies

June 25, 2026 by Rosemerry


she felt the gift 
of her own darkness
how it uplifts
even the smallest light
as treasure

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Forgive Me For Wanting to Soothe 

June 24, 2026 by Rosemerry



Sometimes a wound must stay a wound.
—James Crews, “Wound”


Sometimes I remember a wound
must stay a wound. Why then, 
this impulse to bring you a vase of blue 
larkspur, white lilies and a blessing
instead of sitting with you in the dark
and letting what is dark be dark. 
When I am brave enough to see
beyond my longing to soothe, 
all I want is to be with you in the dark. 
To steep together in the uncomfortable ache. 
To quietly meet you in the wounded place
so you know you are not alone.
Perhaps I will always send you lilies, 
but let me also trust how necessary it is, 
the open ear, this tenderness, 
this willingness to be with,
more gift than any flower.

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