Look at my yard, see all the weeds; it takes no time at all for them to grow. Surprising because I sowed no seeds— ’tis aggravating! I don’t want to mow!
But look, sprinkled in, the yellow and pink blooms well loved by butterfly and bee. They stop awhile to get a quick drink; it’d be a shame to deny them their glee.
I’ll put off the chore until tomorrow, and instead join the insects in the field. Forget the weeds, the troubles and sorrow; when I look at the flowers my soul is healed.
Seldom ever is there a field of waste— Beauty will grow in the same place.
Spring has its own kind of power, it gets straight from Apollo. April’s blessings blossom and shower along the flower path you follow.
How long has it been since you felt the sun shine on your shoulders, making you happy (like John used to say, in the yarn he spun)? Winter was so long and the weather, crappy.
In the evening, sit down to watch the star shine as the sky goes from blue to orange to black. No velvet cloth has ever been so fine as this background is for the zodiac.
Be still as the clouds gather for rain… With luck, it will only bring passing pain.
Photo and poem copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye
Today is my birthday, so I wrote a poem. It’s still pretty rough, and it’s actually two poems since I’m still doing the sonnet-from-a-haiku thing. Anyway, here it is along with the photo I took that inspired it.
Misty morn in spring Sidewalk stretches steadily I’m caught in happy
Sidewalk Stroll on my birthday By Michelle Garren-Flye
Today, the day I turn fifty-something, I see the sidewalk stretch ahead, a true flower path on this day in spring, warmth after the winter we suffered.
I salute the sun, bathe in the breeze, meander about in midnight moonlight; happy to live for a moment at ease with nothing to mourn, no one to fight.
Grateful for all that gives my life spice because living too easy just makes you fat. For true happiness, you must pay a price and sometimes it will knock you down flat.
Today, I know I’ll follow my sidewalk to the end; I’ll round every corner, never hesitate at a bend.
Photo and poem copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye
I still remember the first day I actually identified as a poet. September 11, 2020. I had entered a local poetry contest and there was a reading. Still wearing a mask to keep the dreaded COVID-19 at bay, I attended with my then husband. The poem I read that night was prophetic, but the sticker the organization gave me to wear with my name badge was even more so.
It said, quite simply: “Poet”.
And when I put it on, I didn’t feel like an impostor.
I’ve read a lot of my poems in public since then. I’ve read other people’s poems in public, too. No matter what I do, I know I am a poet. Maybe we are all poets at heart, so maybe I’m not that special, but I have fully embraced being a poet.
Today is National Poets’ Day. It seems an appropriate day to share the news of my latest poetry book, Unwelcome Souvenirs. I’m very proud of this book. It has more than ninety poems in it, including many of the fortune cookie poems I wrote last April for National Poetry Month.
As a very important aside, my daughter also published her first poetry book this week. This was not planned. We finished them close to the same time, and when she told me hers was ready, I thought about how we used to get hiccups at the same time when she was a baby.
Just so you know I am not an impostor poet, I will share the last poem from the “Broken Things” portion of my book:
Just the Heart By Michelle Garren-Flye
just the heart that's all that's left after all the acid rain and all the cleansing pain washed everything else away
just the heart left on a simple pedestal i let the rest of it go (not without a fight though.) I'll plant it now, see what grows.
Copies of my daughter’s book next to mine on the shelf at my store. Photo and poem copyright 2024 Michelle Garren-Flye
If ever I’ve wondered if God had a sense of humor, this was answered today. I honestly howled with laughter when I read today’s fortune. And I swear by all that is holy, that is today’s fortune. I’d just been thinking thank goodness this is the last one when I pulled that fortune out of the cookie. I wish there’d been a camera on me because I honestly felt like somebody was pranking me.
Maybe somebody is. Maybe it’s my balloon-man telling me there’s more to come out of fortune cookies than I know. Maybe even a book?
Whatever. This has been a wonderful month creatively. I’ve written some of my best poetry, and I don’t think I’ve written some of my worst this month, so there’s some creative growth that has occurred. So good. I wrote when I was sick, when I was traveling, when work was busy, when I was finishing up an editing project…I never missed a day during all that.
I do thank you for reading it all. I’ll keep you posted if the fortune cookies decide it’s a good idea to fill up a book. 🙂
Photo and poem copyright 2024 Michelle Garren-Flye
It’s not the end yet. Let’s stay with it.
What a Month By Michelle Garren-Flye
I’m tired and distracted and ready to go. I’ve other things to do that take up my time! Don’t overstay, you’re breaking the flow.
Life goes on may be a tale of woe, and that’s easy to say when it’s not your dime. I’m tired and distracted and ready to go
We’ve had a great run, but this I know: drawing out a good thing would be a crime. Don’t overstay, you’re breaking the flow.
If needs were less or the pace would slow, if only I could be forever in my prime! But I’m tired, distracted, and ready to go.
This month has left us much to show. It hasn’t been easy, but we made the climb! Don’t overstay now, you’ll break the flow.
I’m guessing you’d like a little quid pro quo, and I thank you for reading all my rhythm and rhyme. Now I’m tired and distracted and ready to go. Don’t overstay. You’re breaking the flow.
BREATHE: Michelle Garren-Flye 