Theme: Year of the Nurse
last breath . . .
a nurse turns mother
toward the light
empty womb . . .
a nightingale comforts me
through the night
pandemic
the beak she wears
on her mask
Note: during the 17th century plague, doctors wore a beak-like mask which was filled with lavender or other strongly scented substances, which acted somewhat like a respirator.
Welcome to this archive of my published poetry, photography and art. Thank you for allowing me to share my creative passions with you, and for taking the time to visit. Please be kind, and do not copy any of the content on this site without permission and attribution. All rights reserved © Debbie Strange. I unfold my origami self / and swim into a lake of fire / washing my hair in ashes / the crane-legged words / of a thousand burning poems.
- Archive
- Articles/About
- Awards & Honours
- Images & Words
- Other Writing
- Photography Publications
- Poetry of Light Photography Exhibition
- Readings/Videos
- A Year Unfolding: Haiku
- Mouth Full of Stones: Haikai eBook
- Prairie Interludes: Haiku eChapbook
- Random Blue Sparks: Haiku
- The Language of Loss: Haiku & Tanka Conversations
- Three-Part Harmony: Tanka Verses
- Warp and Weft: Tanka Threads
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment