Archive entry 111
On the steps outside of music class
On the steps outside of music class You taught me how to jump through time. The wrought-iron handrails,
Read the poem On the steps outside of music class →Discovery page
These are poems about childhood and family: parents, old houses, memory, and the way a room can keep living inside the body long after you leave it.
If family is the reason you came here, begin with the clearest poems first and let the archive widen from there.
Start with these poems
Archive entry 111
On the steps outside of music class You taught me how to jump through time. The wrought-iron handrails,
Read the poem On the steps outside of music class →Archive entry 11
One day you'll watch From the back seat of the car Your Dad grab your Mom's hair
Read the poem You're such a beautiful child →Archive entry 5
One day, when you're six years old you may watch your Dad leave, and have just the
Read the poem In your arms →Archive entry 15
When you leave home for the first time, Someone might recognize you by The sound of your voice, the way you wear your
Read the poem To shape your heart →Archive entry 105
I wish I could have warned you. I know it all seemed like just a game—
Read the poem If one kid reads this →Archive entry 14
I watched you with a 4-crayon pack, Filling letters with a careful hand, Each stroke a single color.
Read the poem Comes from love →Keep going from here
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I'd love to give you the first glimpse behind the curtain.
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