First Poem

Audrey’s First Poem

My 2 year old granddaughter is running about my second floor condo, end of January, barefoot. She attempts to open the back door, which leads to the deck outside. I ask her, “Do you want to go outside?” She continues to try to open the door. I pick her up, hold her close to me, telling her, it’s cold outside, and we don’t have coats on. 

We step outside, she looks around and says, 

It’s winter outside,

dark and blue. 

Why I am a Writer

I struggle with my identity as therapist

I heal

I discern

I hold out hope

when none is in sight

I can make you believe

it will be alright

I do not diagnose

like the doctors do

having the blues

is not like having the flu

there is no pill

no quick fix

only the magic of love

and the alchemy of time

a writer scoops up

thoughts, words

and pours them out

to all who will listen

accessible

no sorcery is needed 

no combination of quick words and number

to draw a circle that you are inside of

only throwing caution to the wind

to draw so large a circle

everyone is within