Phyllis Cole-Dai's Blog, page 8

I See Your Golden Feathers

In the hardware store, I select a quart of interior paint from the brands on the shelf. Bright white, for household trim. “My,” the cashier says, as she rings me up, “you’re quite the golden...

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Parable of the Stream, in Five Parts

I The woman wades into the shallow stream. The frigid October water nips the skin of her legs. The gravelly bottom bites the soles of her bare feet. It’s too late in the season for...

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The House That Love Builds

This week for Staying Power, I sat down to write one thing, and something totally different came out. (Surprise! Ain’t life grand?) What came out was a poem that imitates “The House That Jack Built,”...

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Laughing in the Dark (Again)

Sometimes “once” just isn’t enough.

Last fall, during a socially distanced writing retreat in Oakwood Lakes State Park, my friend Ruby and I took a short night hike around a wooded peninsula. Without flashlights. Without even a sliver of moon to see by.

This past week, as the leaves began to turn red and gold once again, Ruby and I met up for another writing retreat. This time we camped beside a slough, or big pond, in Lake Herman State Park.

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Refusing to Nest in the Nesting Dolls

Once, returning from a trip abroad, Jihong brought me the gift of a Russian matryoshka set. At first glance, all you see is a wooden doll, around 7” high. It’s painted to resemble a happy peasant woman, with a city scene on her plump belly.

However, if you lift away the top half of the doll, you find a smaller matryoshka hidden inside—the peasant woman’s daughter. Open that second doll, and you find an even smaller daughter. And then another daughter. Finally, at the center, you come to a baby.

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Letter to the Mountain of Grief

Air-sucker. Heart-breaker. Life-wrecker.

Don’t take it personally, Grief, but under our breath, or deep down inside, we sometimes call you such names. We have as many names for you as for the fallen of 9/11. As for the pandemic dead. As for the people vanished in floods and wildfires. As for our cherished life partners, gone too soon. As for our precious children, ending their lives by suicide ….

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Random Notes from a River Raft

This post first appeared in a recent issue of Staying Power, my weekly care package for creative, compassionate spirits. Get a boost in your inbox! Scroll down to sign up.   After a long, strenuous...

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No Way Around but Through

This post first appeared in a recent issue of Staying Power, my weekly care package for creative, compassionate spirits. Get a boost in your inbox! Scroll down to sign up.   This morning, you come...

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What Shape Is Your Nest in?

This post first appeared in a recent issue of Staying Power, my weekly care package for creative, compassionate spirits. Get a boost in your inbox! Scroll down to sign up.   This cute critter got...

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What to Do When the Eggs Don’t Hatch

This post first appeared in a recent issue of Staying Power, my weekly care package for creative, compassionate spirits. Get a boost in your inbox! Scroll down to sign up.   I admit that I...

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