Poem, snippets and essays of my life
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Tag: nostalgia
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Person of Interest
“I bought a trailer because I joined a gang. My feet itched and my rain was shutting down so I became a nomad something I’ve always wanted to be. Some language has a word for it: people who don’t feel like they belong anywhere. That’s me. I’m pretty old so I was worried about camping…
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Minnow
Today I was watching an insignificant film in which a young girl traveling in Italy with her Dad was swimming in a hotel pool doing laps inside of the 20 foot bowl back and forth and I started to cry. Only in Italy do they have hotel pools carved out of marble lipped with travertine,…
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So far . . .
So far today I’ve eaten enough for three large dogs.I think it’s because my armor thyroid medication is out of stock. It’s only 2:03 PM. That means I have another eight hours to go until I can go to sleep. I love going to sleep. I love the smell of my sheets and the coldness…
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I am the last woman…
I am the last woman on earth. I live alone in my house and every day I follow the schedule that I have arranged for myself. That’s my game. It’s the best way to get through this. Yoga, coffee, meditation, breakfast, look out the window, do the laundry, make the bed, take a shower, take…
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My New Years Message
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In Love
In Love So what would do you think if I told you that I had a crush on an artist for 50 years or more? Well, it’s true. Kind of. There’s something about the shape of him that makes me unable to look into his eyes for any extended period of time. Luckily, I only…
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Listen to my latest radio…
www.snakelyone.com/radio/be-more-now/audio20/bmorenow-lucinda-watson-dec3-2020.mp3 My latest radio interview on “Be More Now”
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A great review for The…
www.columbiatribune.com/entertainment/20201002/poet-sifts-strange-difficult-memories-in-search-for-clarity
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My Mother’s Hair
My Mother’s Hair My mother’s hair always escaped from under her red kerchief or the hairspray lacquered on for control and the hair often went dancing in a night club in Manhattan even when she was in labor with one of us. You can’t control wildness. My mother lay, legs askew, baby coming, never having…
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