Through Emerald Eyes
1. I saw an army of righteous green soldiers, spines erect, facing away from the wind to trick the opposition into doubting their strength. 2. Another day, a thousand brushes— great green swaths of them, moist and willing to receive dust from coats of dogs, little bunnies, the neighbor’s insolent white cat. 3. Who’s to […]
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 6
And why, you might be asking, is she still working on a 2022 story? We are, after all, a few sturdy strides into 2023 spring. The answer is in the story itself. If you’ve been reading these discontinuous pieces, thank you! A 2022 Story You can read part 5 here: https://www.melindacoppola.com/a-2022-story-part-5/ Part 6 […]
A 2022 Story, Part 5
A 2022 Story You can read part four here: htts://www.melindacoppola.com/a-2022-story-part-4/ Part 5 Little Stream wasn’t sure Lily Pond had heard her question, so she asked again. “Wee Lily Pond, do you think there is a way out of this raging river? I really miss my quiet life.” Wee Lily Pond was silent for […]
(She is) Unbroken
Unbroken There were times I imagined you different. My young mother mind pictured you— normal, typical, non-disabled. I can’t use those words anymore for their opposites evoke— lack, absence, tragedy, and you, my child, are a celebration of plenty, a bounty of delight, a well of fascination. In fact, you stand against the backdrop of […]
a 2022 Story, Part 4
You can read part three here: https://www.melindacoppola.com/?p=2948 Part 4 Little Stream and Wee Lily Pond bounced amicably against each other as they were rushed along in Big River’s mighty flow. “So, how’d you get here anyway?” asked Lily. Little felt her waters swirl with pleasure at the burbling of Lily’s Pond’s voice. Oh, she […]
First Digit Singular
This Is What Really Happened Trigger warnings: Run-on sentences. Querulousness. Thirteen days ago I had my thumb joint reconstructed. This was elective and a long time coming—both carpo-metacarpals whittled down to bone on bone, naked osseous matter grinding boorishly against its equally unclothed neighbor, hyaline cartilage having fled years ago. I chose the off […]
A 2022 Story, Part 2
Little Stream Part 2* Little Stream could feel herself being pushed and pulled and hurried along in Big River’s watery trajectory. For the first time in her flowing life she lost track of the passage of days. Whole moons or suns got lost when she was tugged under a strong current or squeezed perilously against […]
A 2022 Story
There was a little stream—more of a rivulet, really—that dribbled and dripped and murmured along through a swath of untamed land. Many moons and suns cast their light upon her waters as she found her way around boulders and hills and the wide trunks of venerable trees. She was free of any precepts that […]
The Shift
art: Moon Goddess by Melinda Coppola, done in watercolor. On my best days I do dwell in gratitude and I experience most everything as a blessing. My poem, “The Shift”, attempts to give voice to that. The poem, which you can read below, has been published in Writing in a Woman’s Voice Poetry Journal. […]