Especially for those friends who live alone
For whom the morning reflex is to reach for the phone
And doom scroll
And then roll over and doze for another hour
You do what you have to do
You shower
You feed the cat
You water the plants
You shop for groceries…some of the time
If you made promises
You keep them
Sometimes late with apologies
But so much of life now
slides and slides by you
like cars and houses and trees
in the flood waters
You escape from the news
Into games on your phone
Into serials on your tv
Into clicking on websites
Down the rabbit holes
Let’s promise ourselves
An hour outdoors
An hour reading a book
An hour talking to a friend
Breathe in
Reach out
Kristin Moyer, July 9, 2025
Category: poetry
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For All My Friends Who Have Gone Down the Rabbit Hole
-
After the Derecho
The storm has moved on
And now we emerge from our homes
To see the trees once so green and graceful
Stripped
Snapped
Broken
Ravaged
Savaged
As though some drunken storm god
had used them for toothpicks
And then tossed them away
We cannot walk without stumbling into fallen trees
their bodies broken and piercing the sky
Bring out the pipers
Bring out the drums
Bring out the fiddles
Play a dirge
Play a lament
Sing our sad songs
Mourn the green passage
Kristin Moyer
July 2, 2025 -
REMINDERS
Reminders
Don’t let anyone steal your joy
Don’t let anyone dim your flame
Don’t let anyone take your awe from the sunrise
or that miraculous person who is ringing up your groceries
We are all miracles
Take a friend to lunch
Plan something that gives you joy
Donate to a cause you believe in
Call someone who has been on your mind
Protest wherever and however you can
Stand Up
Kristin Moyer
March 2025 -
Snow Drops
I turn away from my computer and see—-
Outside my window the snow drops are blooming
They do not know that my country is going to hell in a hand basket
They only know that the earth has warmed
That the days are growing longer
That it is time to emerge from the earth
And show their brief beauty
It is a kind of courage
I think
To push out of darkness into light
Kristin Moyer
February 28 2025 -
Solar Eclipse, April 8, 2024
And while the moon passes in front of the sun
And thousands tilt their heads
And stare with their black opaque eyes
On my neighbor’s roof
the men with hammers continue
tapping tapping
Across the pond
a lawnmower growls into life
ruthless with the spring
And at my poolside
the men with their long brushes
Sweep the walls slowly steadily
The light dims, the day cools
but the hammers tap tap tap
(with some apologies to William Carlos Williams)
Kristin Moyer
April 2024 -
Wanderlust
And so we dream of adventuring And store the travel brochures in shoeboxes on our closet shelves And fall asleep singing to ourselves “on the shores of Mandalay where the flying fishes play” And then find a man who has a compass in his heart too Who hears the seagulls flying over Illinois corn fields And in time We take flight So many places with strange sounding names… Now in this octogenarian decade The names still call to us, like sirens on the rocks All those points not yet seen or touched But the bed also sets up a steady hum Home, it hums, home, stay here, be warm Snuggle down in the sleek sheets Never move again Outside in the winter moonlight, the Lorelei sing Kristin Moyer January 2024
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Gratitude 2023
November 8, 2023 she swabs my shoulder briskly and I look away as the needle sinks in recalling my gratitude for that first Covid shot and then the second one that released me into daylight and hugs today is my seventh Covid shot pushing my shirtsleeve down walking into the sunshine of my world on this bright November day now missing 1,136,920 of my people due to Covid-19 less we forget no taps will be played remember them Kristin Moyer