We are the poem

A reading, a poem, and a protest

First off, next Sunday, February 15, Lisa Jensen and I are hosting a Zoom reading of three poets from Substack followed by an open mic. Our featured readers are MK Creel, Dick Whyte, and Sam Aureli. The reading begins at 1 p.m. PST, 4 p.m. EST. Come to hear the poets and read one poem of your own, or two very short poems. We want to give as many folks as possible the opportunity to read. If you would like to attend, please send me a direct message and I will send you the link.

A pin from A Courage of Poets, February 6, 2026, Sacramento, California

Here in Northern California we’ve begun to pivot toward spring. February is a time of liminality; just as October marks the change from summer to fall, so February marks the turn from winter to spring. Yesterday morning on a drive to Sacramento, I realized the plum trees had started to bloom and the grass green. Today I noticed the Acacia, the tulip magnolias.

So many things in my life and my mother’s life are also shifting, with my mother moving into assisted living and then within a week, losing much of her mobility and needing more help than assisted living can provide. Our relationship is going through its own rite of passage. We’re “betwixt and between.” It’s disorienting, ambiguous, uncomfortable. She’s angry and sad at times and so am I. At ninety-four, she’s in the winter of life, and at sixty-two, I’m moving into fall.

February is also a month for love. I had two poems in the February issue of Verse-Virtual. You can read them both here. I posted one of the poems, Ode to Pomelo, a couple of years ago but I wanted to share it again. It represents infatuation, before I really learned what love meant.

On Friday, February 6, I drove up to Sacramento with two poet friends for A Courage of Poets. The gathering was sponsored by Sixteen Rivers Press and the Poetry Center of Sacramento in honor of all those who have been killed by ICE, either on the streets protesting or while being detained or in detention. There were perhaps a hundred poets. We circled around and everyone had a chance to read two lines or so from a poem of their own or someone else’s about what’s going on today. There were well-known and completely unknown California poets. The final reader was California Poet Laureate Lee Herrick, who wrote a poem for the occasion. The ritual ended with a group barbaric yawp in honor of Walt Whitman. I felt connected and renewed. I’ll end with a photo of a sculpture created to honor those killed.

Photo by Janet Jennings

Thank you so much for reading and accompanying me on this journey. If you would like to read more of my poetry, my book Gathering the Pieces of Days celebrates the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of our days. You can get your copy from Unsolicited Press, Bookshop.org, or Asterism. If you use this link to check out all the books at Unsolicited Press, I do get a small commission.

Photo by Janet Jennings