Writing travel poetry whenever I go somewhere new helps keep those memories fresh in my mind, whether I visited just a year ago or five years past. For this edition of travel poetry, I’m sharing my piece about the Agamemenon Keystone Gate in Mycanae, Greece from my trip in 2019. Ancient stone ruins hold aContinue reading “Travel Poetry: Keystone Gate”
It’s blue in all directionswith a smooth blanket in frontand ahead, and rippling wavesbelow. Even that line where theymeet is a cloudy blue that waversin the light. We sit back on the outerdeck with our feet kicked up onthe railings, not a care in the world.This vessel is taking us to paradise. Originally shared here.
It’s a million broken stones to seebut we mill our way through, upand down the halls that hold marblebusts and headless torsos. Thoughour feet glide over smooth, clearPlexiglass our eyes take in the groundbelow, into clay and beige dirt withindiscernable shapes of what was onceeither a kiln for fire or designatedchamber pot space. Either way,Continue reading “Into the Ancient Past”
The yellow, blue, and red stand Stark against white mountain caps. Colors bleed stronger than that absence of shade. It will always wave, louder and brighter than the snow surrounding. It calls us home. Originally shared here.
Read my poem about the joys of travel friendships
I saw Aja Monet read at a poetry panel at the Miami Book Fair a couple of years back, and immediately knew I needed to pick up her book. It took me a while to do that because every time I went to look for it in a store, it was out of stock. ThatContinue reading “Meagan Reads Poetry: My Mother Was a Freedom Fighter by Aja Monet”
I just absolutely loved this poem. Click the link to check it out! https://wp.me/p7uWns-2Yr
You glide by casually down the ‘Glades while our noisy asses throw waves and ripples in your territory but still you pay us no mind. And why would you? We’re chumps in comparison to your prehistoric perfected design. Blending with brackish waters, barely un ojito to be seen, a trail of bubbles telling us youContinue reading “Later Gator”
The road so far is the same that leads us back. Back to where you and I come from, where your ancestors dwelled. It’s quiet here and the people don’t care that we’re here. They figure we’re just more tourists come to see the oddity that is small town life where everyone knows each other.Continue reading “Where It All Began”
What an exquisite piece. Click the link below to read. By Lorraine Caputo Up & down the river boardwalk along this swollen river people dip lines into the quick current A man fights to bring his back in, long, expensive rod bending — only to emerge debris A large raft of waterlilies swiftly drifts downstreamContinue reading “Fishing for Magic —”