• facebook

©2016-2018 by Pat Durmon, Poet. Proudly created with Wix.com

July 31, 2017

Almost August. My last two months are full of eustress* and distress: a family wedding, reunions, trips, plans broken, lack of rain, putting a manuscript together, grass in flowerbeds, on and on.

I am angry. Did you know stress can steal just about everything, even the...

July 24, 2017

We wait to hear the outcome of surgery. Tension. The grandboy’s appendix must be removed, but surgery (any kind) has risk. None of us speak of that.

How grateful I am that we cannot feel two emotions at one time. One is enough.

Zipadeedoodah. We think a thought. Then zip...

July 17, 2017

The mulch pile had turned as black as the delta. We were trying to beat the heat, so we were up early, moving mulch to flowerbeds. My husband’s laughter sounded childlike as he turned the tractor over to me.

I wish I could say I was happy about that. For me, it was just...

July 10, 2017

More than the garden phlox growing rotund heads, more than the display of bright red canna tongues shoving their way upward toward sky, it’s the greens of trees in my yard that take me over. Oh my! They do not give up.

Last week’s straight winds broke limbs and whammed...

July 3, 2017

Last evening. I saw the truth. No words. Just feelings. Just behaviors. But big enough for me to recognize it.

I knew, after my husband left, that I could have said, “I want to go too,” but I was involved in putting a poem together. I didn’t want to stop doing what I wa...

Please reload

Recent Posts

March 23, 2020

Please reload

Archive

Please reload

Tags