Shallow Ponds

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All night

the shallow ponds reached as if to pull me back

into all that I am.

I do not want to go where I once dwelled

in the bone white sadness of my self.

I want to ride

on the sun,

to catch the milky tail

of sleep,

to gather honey

in flower baskets

and drink down the sweetness savoring every drop

like a love affair

that will never lose its desire for me.


The blue truck is leaving

down the road.

I don’t know where it’s going.

I grab cabbage, daikon and red leaf lettuce and stuff them in my cart.

My wheels wobble.

They always wobble.

I don’t know how miso

can cure a boundary-less girl

or how seaweed can ease my cramps,

or why I suddenly crave sauerkraut.

I don’t know why four thousand birds gathered in my yard yesterday

only to leave three minutes later,

or why my dog barks at me.

I only know

I miss him.


The Blue Truck



Diana Darby is a poet, singer songwriter, and screenwriter based in Chicago.  She received a  B.A. in Theatre and  an M.F.A. in writing and directing from USC. She has released five albums, and toured as an artist throughout Europe and the U.S.


The white rabbit comes to me

in my dreams.

His face pressed against the glass, he pours me tea

and waits for me

to step outside.

He is there in his checkered coat with his briefcase.

He wants me to sign

my divorce papers.  “I’m not married,” I tell him.

“You will be,”he says.

Then he disappears,

taking his tea pot with him.


The White Rabbit


Copyright belongs to the creator. .


Surprise me...
Surprise me...



Surprise me...


Surprise me...