Melinda Coppola

twenty four may | from the inside out

Melinda Coppola

twenty four may | from the inside out

A Tale of Two Motorists

Poem for the Pissed-Off Driver   I have a third eye that sees beyond your scowl, man-behind -the-wheel who couldn’t bear to wait when I slowed to turn right and so zoomed past, horn blaring, finding just enough time to turn and glare at me, mouth a “F*** you” before roaring off to his Clearly […]

Still, After Years

This is the Love Poem, Mid-Life for Super Guy “Who, being loved, is poor?” –Oscar Wilde Remember the night I woke moaning, ankles on fire, some ghost gripping my arches, preventing even a twitch of toes, a wiggle’s wriggle? You rolled without hesitation from the warmth of our layered nest, cast aside your beloved pillows— […]

The Continuing Saga of Little Stream

A 2022 Story Part 11 You can read part 10 here: https://www.melindacoppola.com/little-stream-an…22-story-part-10   Part 11 “Lily Pond?” Little Stream called out again and again without answer into the bright air. Her voice was thin and tired, and it seemed to blow away in the wind. The long, odd journey she’d been on felt like a […]

Old into New

The Boathouses, Acrylic on canvas by Melinda Coppola   Natura Illustratio   Nature is a picture book of wisdom and example, an illustrated guide to how we could arrive, and live, and die. Take, for example, a leaf in spring. It draws from mother tree the energy it needs and not a drop more, grows […]

Rhyming to Death

I started writing poetry when I was 8 or 9. My first notebooks were full of rhyme, crude as it may have been. Over the years my writing morphed into rambling narrative free verse. From time to time I enjoy a quick dip back into the rhythmic river of rhyme. It feels playful to me […]

A 2022 Story, Part 9

Part 9 You can read part 8 here: https://www.melindacoppola.com/a-2022-story-part-8 The skies grew dark earlier and Moon stayed longer. Sun still warmed the skies, but the air was crisp and cool. Trees on the banks of Big River dropped bright, wide leaves or dry brown needles into the swirling waters, and still Little Stream and Wee […]

A 2022 Story, Part 8

A 2022 Story You can read part 7 here: https://www.melindacoppola.com/a-2022-story-part-7/   Part 8 Many suns and moons came and went as Little Stream and Wee Lily Pond tumbled along in the powerful pull of Big River. They were quiet—Lily too exhausted to speak, Little just too sad. Still, both felt glad to have a friend. […]

Hush

I’m pleased that my poem, ” Hush”, was published in Amethyst Review today.   Hush Is it by aging alone that I landed in this sparse, harsh forest, where most branches are sharp, all bark is sandpaper, and even the birds., diligently practicing their scales, can sometimes shake my equilibrium, scrape my eardrums with their […]

A 2022 Story, Part 7

A 2022 Story, Part 7 You can read part 6 here: https://www.melindacoppola.com/a-2022-story-part-6/   Part 7 A spark of something wonderful rose inside Little Stream as she waited for Wee Lily Pond to push her towards the banks of Big River. Hope!  There would be a way out of this soon. She could feel her friend […]

It Goes Like This

You smile down on me from a slightly precarious perch on the shelf above my messy desk. It’s my favorite photo of you—young and exuberantly happy, arms flung wide, dressed in colorful layers that reflect your signature style. I’d never seen this picture until your Memorial Service, but I loved it immediately. My second favorite […]