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Poetry

There is a sweetness, a deep surrender that occurs for Kristina when poetry pours out of her.

In that state of creative expression there are few edits and if the poetry doesn’t flow easily from her, she puts down her pen and waits for another day, another moment of grace and she begins once again.

Poetry is Kristina’s medicine. Between her more formal and structured writings, this is where she comes to get unblocked.

The poems here are new since “Mystic Wayfarer”. And she continues to write compiling for the next book. Here is where you can read the latest.
Bucking Up

Bucking Up

She soars Then tumbles Turns this way then that Clouds fill her vision A dreamtime acrobatist Free and unafraid Yet still filled with dread   A low hum sooths A baby’s cry Igniting the world Opening her eyes She spies a lapel pin of wings On a blue clad uniform Remembering Her mission To be […]

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Entering the Cave

Entering the Cave

The warehouse bedazzled A cave full of riches Smells from Mother’s world Wafted through Filling her with almost dread Boxes piled high Reflecting a life well garnished   Spying the highest box The Daughter reached As best she could Tip toeing Extending her arms To where her fingers Barely brushed The cardboard Arms stretched Ascending, […]

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The Temporary Staging Area

The Temporary Staging Area

A home for the recently departed Where spirits mingle And souls are wrangled   Walls of red-flocked paper And black leather furniture A coffer suggesting mourning Framed comic book mortician humor Hangs conspicuously about Designed to stave off tears But tear showers still down pour So Kleenex lives close by Just in case   The […]

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Carpe Diem

Carpe Diem

  Sleeping like… Stopping herself mid sentence The phrase too perfect to exclaim She peered into the room Where her Mother’s last days Lived in a kind of innocent joy Peppered with excruciating pain   Every day a journey This one quiet and gentle Her soft snore revealing nothing Her open mouth seemed Her soul’s […]

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The Eulogy

The Eulogy

It’s challenging to hone down who my Mother was. She was so many, many things. She was kind, strong, innocent, charming, impossible, artistic, conservative, wild, enthusiastic, non judging, loving, indomitable….once she set her mind on something she wanted to accomplish you could never talk her out of it. Which is part of what made her […]

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Final Days

Final Days

Passing through the doorway Once more I see her face blank In drug induced pain relief She stares out the window Her moans a mantra of sorts Pausing before reaching the bed Now shocked more than grief ridden Alice descends Slipping ever more rapidly Down the rabbit hole A week becoming a month Wrangling tears […]

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