A decade or so ago, I wrote this poem and from this sprang the children’s picture book, Where Wildflowers Grow. In this, my siblings and
Tag: Julie Kusma
All Hallows’ Eve
I enter your room as a chilled breeze while you slumber deep. My translucent hand glides along the wood as I hover near your footrail.
Momento mori
Memento mori is what they say. Life’s short so do what you must. Live in the moment, and in this do trust— if you were
Cracked
I wondered as he puttered around, could I kill a man with the strength of my legs? Could I crush the life from his chest—
Push Pull
“My flight was late,” I confessed. The sweet, sultry memory stirred. Rare for me to concede to desire, but our dance’s push-pull elevated want to
Timebomb
My heartbeat ticked in my head. Both eardrums thumped, and the vein on the side of my neck pulsed in unison with each beat. Every
Julie Kusma, Author 