Posts by Fleda

My Wobbly Bicycle, 160

Posted by on Nov 28, 2018 in Featured | 11 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 160

On the seat in front of me on the plane, a young woman is splaying her fingers to admire again her long pointed nails, sparkly blue claws. We should have trimmed Wally’s claws before we left, I think. When we rolled our bags out the door at six in the morning, he was sitting perfectly still, forlorn, I might imagine, eyes large, knowing it was useless to try to follow. This had happened before, he knew, all to no good.   Travel is like a dream. You see where you are, but you are also back there, where you left. You travel through the years, too, but you are also back there, in that...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 159

Posted by on Nov 13, 2018 in Archive | 2 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 159

It’s kind of flying. Not only are we three floors up, but we’re at the end of the building, with windows on three sides: fourteen, to be exact. We walked in here after years in our bungalow on 8th Street, and gasped. It still makes us gasp.  I think where you live, day by day, changes your sense of the world. Probably even your art. From my desk I can see the old asylum buildings that haven’t yet been renovated, and the cars snaking along Silver Drive. I can see across the open field and, in this early morning mist, the lights at Meijer’s store. I can see some of the river of lights...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 158

Posted by on Nov 1, 2018 in Archive | 0 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 158

        Is this heaven? The sidewalks are paved with gold. And the trees. Even as the colors mute, they’re still all these shades of softening brown. You wouldn’t think about politics if you didn’t have to.  I usually post on Wednesdays, because supposedly that’s the day the most readers will read it, but election day is Tuesday. You going to read about leaves after that? So this is what’s happening before. What’s happening is that an almost transparent spider is letting itself down my venetian blind by its almost invisible thread. It’s trusting the thread will hold. It has...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 157

Posted by on Oct 23, 2018 in Archive | 1 comment

My Wobbly Bicycle, 157

I’ve been gathering and arranging poems to see if they make up a book, yet. A whole nother level of attention. Some have been published, of course, but some I’m pulling up out of the dark of my computer files and examining with squinty eyes. I’m editing a lot. I don’t know. I feel as always, miserably insecure. But it’s useful to see what’s here. I may be writing the same poem over and over. Always there’s the agony, the despair. How many ways can that be held up to the light? I’m particularly alert to what others are writing. I just read a poem that ends, “Soothe me,...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 156

Posted by on Oct 16, 2018 in Archive | 3 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 156

The last thing I’ve been concerned with during the last few years is my website. It seemed pretty remote from the flesh and blood we’ve been dealing with here. When I discovered I’d lost four years of all site updates, I was so exasperated I thought maybe I should just shut it down.   But no. What I do is write stuff. It needs to be available. So, onward.  I’ve had my wonderful web guy, Mark Wise, help me update. Have you ever browsed this site? I’ll bet you just go straight here, to the blog post.   My site is really, really nice, I must say. Let me give you a Tour of...

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