Child of Ice
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Saturday, March 24, 2007. As long as there is memory, there is poetry. Year at least one person. Us, we scrambled through. On our backs to form. Hills that put cut glass.
Saturday, March 24, 2007. It is Sunday, after the family Sunday dinner. Sweet with the smells, of Sunday. There is the fireplace, wood burning; there is the staircase, warming as it rises. I am sitting halfway up the staircase, facing out; my hands loosely encircle the smooth swelling bars of railing. I am bathed in the swelling comfort of rising air. And what is the matter with Joanie? Why does she always sit by herself? I do not unde.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007. I was thin as a waif,. Just two and a half,. The word, watermelon, saw. I could think of in English,. For the children to come,. This poem appeared in the anthology, PATCHWORK OF DREAMS, 1966.
Thursday, April 5, 2007. She chased cars, butted babies,. A gift from some old farmer. She put his fragile nerves. Poetry Immersion Classes with Joan Dobbie. Some Thoughts and How to on Poetry Writing. My First Memory, Circa 1947. I Begin with a Moment.
Monday, March 26, 2007. My First Memory, circa 1947. I think I was not yet two. To which my parents escaped. But then it was spring. Me so tiny,dark and so naked. Sitting bare bottom in a washtub. Where my mother had left me. For just one minute alone. When the huge brindled cow. Drank up all my water.
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Tuesday, March 27, 2007. Didnt kill us, though every. Year at least one person. Froze to death. As for. Us, we scrambled through. Snow tunnels, lay. On our backs to form. Angels, flew down. Hills that put cut glass. The way of the world-. That we took for granted. I was not an only child, but. Lonely as a child of ice. This was the only world I knew. I knew no other. Posted by Joan Dobbie 921 AM. View my complete profile. Joans Childhood in Poetry. Poetry Immersion Classes with Joan Dobbie.CONTENT
This web page joanschildofice.blogspot.com states the following, "Tuesday, March 27, 2007." We saw that the webpage said " Didnt kill us, though every." It also said " Year at least one person. Us, we scrambled through. On our backs to form. Hills that put cut glass. The way of the world-. That we took for granted. I was not an only child, but. Lonely as a child of ice. This was the only world I knew. Posted by Joan Dobbie 921 AM. Poetry Immersion Classes with Joan Dobbie."SEEK SIMILAR DOMAINS
Saturday, March 24, 2007. It is Sunday, after the family Sunday dinner. Sweet with the smells, of Sunday. There is the fireplace, wood burning; there is the staircase, warming as it rises. I am sitting halfway up the staircase, facing out; my hands loosely encircle the smooth swelling bars of railing. I am bathed in the swelling comfort of rising air. And what is the matter with Joanie? Why does she always sit by herself? I do not unde.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007. I was thin as a waif,. Just two and a half,. The word, watermelon, saw. I could think of in English,. For the children to come,. This poem appeared in the anthology, PATCHWORK OF DREAMS, 1966.
Thursday, April 5, 2007. She chased cars, butted babies,. A gift from some old farmer. She put his fragile nerves. Poetry Immersion Classes with Joan Dobbie. Some Thoughts and How to on Poetry Writing. My First Memory, Circa 1947. I Begin with a Moment.
Monday, March 26, 2007. My First Memory, circa 1947. I think I was not yet two. To which my parents escaped. But then it was spring. Me so tiny,dark and so naked. Sitting bare bottom in a washtub. Where my mother had left me. For just one minute alone. When the huge brindled cow. Drank up all my water.
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