In the small hours of the night
she dragged a lawn chair into the open,
settled herself,
cast her eyes
at the sky.
Tag: Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Divination by Shooting Star by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Creation Story by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
At the beginning
a great whirlwind
swept the land.
Directions to a Secret Treasure by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Drive through the skinny downtown,
up the hill on a twisty road.
Inhale the resin-scented air
touched with the tang of the sea.
Kyoto by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Heady with travelers’ bravado
the couple stood in ancient Kyoto
on a street lined with old wooden buildings.
The woman held a tourist map in her hands,
the man wanted to give her the world.
Weekend Morning by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
The tea kettle whistles
its wake-up call,
tea fills the mug,
double-strength.
Joy At The Meeting by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
A woman in my county
doesn’t play on a green field
or hold court on a gymnasium floor.
Noises Outside the Tent by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
At the tag end of summer when Earth shifts
under our feet and the trees start thinking
of Autumn hues and shedding leaves
we go for one last camping trip at the lake.
Lens Life by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Through a lens, clearly,
the woman watches life pass.
Her body a box of troubles,
her mind a scrambled nest,
her eye focuses on the square
that makes uneasy sense.
Stories in the night by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Stories pricked the dark
heavy with leave-taking
driving love away
Shapes of Gray by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Morning fog fuzzes the edges
of fences, trees, a bull grazing.
Forms I think are ducks
float on the creek.
Old House by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Tear down this house
rid the land of rotting beams
the kudzu-covered walls
pock-marked and bowing
Committee by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
All dressed up
for the meeting
her secret self dances
inside the gray power suit.
Tear Up by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Tear up your lecture notes,
leave your book bag behind
and your I-pod and your cell phone.
Feel on your fleeing body
the touch of freedom.
Advice from the Mothers by Patricia Welingham-Jones
The mothers told us,
Hide your brains. Boys don’t like
girls who are smart.
Message from Above by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
I cuddle on the couch
with my boyfriend.
In her bed over our heads
my mother watches the clock.
What Is True by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
I write about connection between women
with no history except heat—
creeping through loins,
waking them nights, weeping into pillows.
Dream Language by Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Your hand twitches
You sink into sleep
as you do whenever you sit
Body at rest
the right hand clasps
a folded paper towel in lax fingers
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Cover Girl Stephenie Meyer: An Interview (Part One) with Deb Smouse
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Live Alone and Like It The Classic Guide for the Single Woman
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My Plan to Thrive while I Deal with Grief this Holiday Season
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Life, Love and Lesson Plans by Wynn Godbold
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Under the Bed by Jody Keisner
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The Mighty Kymm’s Deep Cuts: Before Midnight
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Happier & Healthier Living: Sandwich Generation
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The Gypsy Girl’s Guide to Atlanta, GA
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Habitation: Ditching Drama as a Lifestyle
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Man on Monday: Brian Plautz of Chroma
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Penny Luker: Thanks Jodie I couldn't agree more. We need more ...
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Jody: Thanks Penny. I enjoyed reading this. A lot. W...
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Margaret: Really great read, Jody. Our relationships with w...
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Elizabeth Rago: Thanks, Roxanne. I am so happy I am on my side now...
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