Far away city

Far away city with dreams that went to sleep

About Lucinda

Lucinda Watson has worked as a teacher, a healer, a volunteer, a naturalist guide, a storyteller and a board member of a few nonprofits, sometimes all at once. Watson worked for more than 10 years at the Haas School of Business, teaching communication skills to the MBA population and recruiting business leaders to speak at Haas.

Latest Blog Posts

Explore some poems, snippets, and essays of my life.

I Am Poem

By: Zandr Mehran, age 9I am happyI wonder how earth started because now one knowsI hear Mrs. Puljiz talking about animals which makes me think of how they lose there homeI see the yellow bee that crashed on the tableI want to be happy for the animalsI am happyI pretended that there is a big tiger that lept on meI feel the smooth floor that is hardI touch the floor that feels hardI worry about the animals because they might become extinct!I cry about nothing because I was not sadI am happyI understand that the animals lose their homes when […]

The End of the World

Around 8:30 PM she breathed a sigh of relief as in 90 minutes her head would hit the pillow and the illumination of the world would end.Over the years she had tried a few things to help her sleep: milk, cookies, magnesium, men, books, and various sleep technicians. None of this had helped her yet now, during this time the world is ending, her sleep was the sound of a book closing.A thick book.Hours would pass and she would lie in the same position lost in another world, past or future.Hip into moon crater.Hair lost to crown of thorns.Hands gnarled […]

Deeply Upsetting

Roe v. Wade May be Overtuned, a :Leaked draft of Supreme Court Opinion Indicates  

My Birth

My mother’s father, Samuel Joseph Cawley, died three days before I was born and was buried in a paupers grave in Van Nys, California, alone and still drunk so the embalmer had it easy. My mother went into labor etherized and alone, and, hearing “ it’s a girl”, sighed into her peignoir and turned her back on it all: the dead first boy, the second, another boy, then two girls and then me. A brood mare. She struck a match for her L&M and flicked the ashes in the nightstand drawer it’s white metal smooth and cold. Loyal to her. […]

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