Clattering bricks
Tumbling, crumbling
down
to the dusty earth
Ghost of a chimney
bastion of hearth and home
shattered by time
Long used
further forgotten
overgrown
trapped in a timeless tumult
Watching over
the prairie


© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

My father kept the doll
A favorite of mine
I hadn't seen in years
She's missing her clothes
But I love her still
And my best friend remembered
She got me a mug
That I love
And now I'm wishing I could
Remember my doll
Now in my daughter's room
And when I "gave her up"


© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

Deep
Royal
Purple

Downy
Covered
Leaves

Trumpeting
Upwards
Splayed

Trickling
Downward
Growing

Faintly
Scented
Fragrance

Accepting
Simplistic
Beauty


© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

Why don't we whistle the
Colonel Bogey march anymore?
This is our movie moment in
real life: standing in a line at the
store, slowly moving molasses
Might be sped up with a 
Catchy Alford tune, oft mistaked
for Sousa
Whi  -  stle
Whi  -  stle   now  Whi  -  hi  -  stle!


© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

If this is your first hypoglycemic event, welcome
We're shaky, we want to vomit, but we're okay
In fact, I did an entire Target run on hypoglycemia and I didn't puke
But I wanted to
Instead I'd visibly swoon
Then rub my upper collarbone
Where the skin tags are
And my sister insisted we leave
But I wouldn't
And I made it
You could too if you gritted your teeth
Can you bear it?


© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.