Linda G. Hatton

He asked to be scattered among her forget-me-nots— now she finger-rakes dust & dirt in hopes of a rebloom— For today's prompt , take the phrase "What (blank)," replace the blank with a ...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2023/04/whats-in-garden.html

Things that fall away—g-                litter sw-       -gs       -in- friend-           ships— For today's prompt , write poem using at least three of the f...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2023/04/at-park.html

Eyes met / sparkled & gleamed swept            us                  into                       next meet (but you              don’t                ...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2023/04/a-quickie.html

It’s that time of year when sidewalks   slither to life, They sneak through their surroundings   make silent escapes, stand their ground   practice ambush predation   leave jogger...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2023/04/snakey-wakens.html

Broken only by the repetitive song of a lone robin reminding me— life goes on. For today's prompt , take the phrase "The (blank) of a (blank)," replace the blanks with a new word or phras...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2023/04/the-silence-of-grief.html

I don’t know why   my love resides      inside that cubbyhole,      if I’ll take it (or him)      with me      when I go, if my love   can penetrate the shade ...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2023/04/funeral-at-dusk.html

She said she missed me,  so I apologized. Teared-up my eyes until she came outside, bow & arrow in hand, took aim, made me realize— I’m no good at reading people. For today's prompt , ...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2023/04/misunderstood.html

something dripping paper ripping toilet flushing teeth brushing clock tick ticking foot tickling kiss on the cheek school starts next week— so giddy they can’t sleep      oh to be young  ...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2023/04/childhood-bedtime.html

Today I wore no socks to the mailbox  when Pacific Northwest earth  squished between  my toes. Your letter is long      overdue. Rumor has it you sent it last week in 1983 when...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2023/04/count-measure-label.html

—fun-size candy bars (small when you’re craving a king) —the 8 oz. drink (big except when it’s 110°) —your salary (small after deductions) —slice of tuxedo cake (small if you’re...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2023/04/a-matter-of-perception.html

That secondhand jasmine you claim is cool to breathe ignites my coughs & gags & makes me sneeze. For today's prompt , write a poem that smells. Or at least, write a poem that involves th...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2023/04/incensed.html

A major highway connecting two towns? Two bones connected by ligaments? Are we one or are we two? Are we —a hose & sprinkler? —a tile & grout? —a shingle & tar? —a company & its scand...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2023/04/what-are-we.html

I’m your low-budget flick. You, there, sitting in your cushion- covered metal chair, sucking on ice cubes & corn kernels, anticipating my end. You, there, didn’t realize I’ll live...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2023/04/double-feature.html

On a twelve-hundred mile trek      twice a year,  my past nipping at my rear— I’ve lost the ability to know what’s below the drop-                               off ...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2023/04/cliffs-edge-poem.html

He's a universal tool,  good for so many things,  but it's hard to figure out how he operates.  This Tool Is Easier to Figure Out I wrote this in response to the PAD countdown prompt ...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2021/03/thats-what-he-is.html

Today I’ll make a list of all I need to remember: read Breathing the Water, ex-      ercise, write essays about conception, death & dying, achieving success, & a poem here & ther...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2020/04/his-name-was-yes-i-remember.html

Plant seeds into earth, cells divide, flowers sprout, offer bees and peeps abundant nectar. Unpicked fruit falls back to bed in birthing dirt, feeds seeds, prepares for life, death, met...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2020/04/phyllotaxis-spirals.html

She hitchhikes rides in your tire . . . d mind every night as cotton t(h)reads cradle your head, the way she did before you . . . drove her away . . . You haven’t seen her ...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2020/04/car-driver-hitchhiker.html

He bubble wraps your delicate heart, converts cardboard boxes into mythical castles, weed whacks the blues from your weekend distractions, provides air for your imaginary guitar, st...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2020/04/his-life-purpose.html

If you love me, consider me as five days of rain that lit a fire inside you. If you love me, call me a shipwreck who inspired you to thrive in an unfamiliar world. If you love me, whis...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2020/04/the-prize-who-reminded.html

—the forest,      a Himalayan salt lamp, enlightens           stray wanderers, detoxes                stale lifestyles, promises                 �...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2020/04/crystalline-traces.html

My  future self resides inside my father’s aged cigar box, displayed with pride on high, above an antique upright where immortal composers mourn and sigh from beyond at the terri...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2020/04/box-of-teeth.html

He lugged his way through the labyrinth in pursuit of a trumpet, but instead, he thumped the drums, disturbed my nerves. If only he’d book a gondola ride, exit one of those waxen G...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2020/04/migraines-his-name.html

Last night I saw you walk by— your face held the grace of twenty-one before you replaced me the first time. Pine needles shivered in five overhead trees, and waves of scarlet linen br...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2020/04/insomniac-dreams.html

I wish I’d made a note of all I wanted to remember before my brain transformed into a faulty trash compactor. I couldn’t halt the great revolt of that rowdy teen inside my brain f...

http://www.lindaghatton.com/2020/04/his-name-was-so-and-so.html