Morning Battle

I do not battle

Sleep

In the morning

I do not battle

The sadness

Not really

My battle is

The darkness

Invisible

Masked

By the dawning

There is a trumpet sound

Unheard

There is a battle cry

In the silence

There is a battle drum

Inside us

While the deaf world

Is stretching and yawning

Yes, we hear the darkness

In the dawning

The library is a boy and I have a crush on him

“The library is a boy I have a crush on him. I try to never too forward, though I adore him. So, I tell you a secret, a funny secret: I know neither Dewey nor his decimals. I never learned. Why? Because I’m an absolute schoolgirl when it comes to this crush and I soak up every moment of the mystery of love. Mapless, I go exploring, and how I feel like a pioneer, how I feel like a conqueror! Today (I can’t help leaning into tell you this delight) I found his poetry. And it’s hidden in such a lovely way – there in the back right corner. Dickinson and cummings and Frost and Eliot – oh – I’m tingling from the sensation of words breaking out of their lines, words in revolution of thought and meaning and juxtaposition. Anthologies send a cool rush all over me. Complete Works awe me as mountains do. Then, in accord with sweet poetry’s fine nature of surprise I find a book like nothing I’ve ever read before – Deaf American Poetry. It eclipses any young man’s roses. No wonder I’m smitten.” – From In Case of Books