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My daughter Carlin and I went to the Centennial Park craft fair that used to be TACA, held just before Mother’s Day. The day was cool and pleasant. I bought a small neck piece from Tye Dye Mary, delighted that she was there and in good health. In one booth, a woman from Kentucky was selling purses made from recycled leather. I’m always looking for the perfect purse. This woman had one that was slim and small enough to fit under my armpit, which is where I like to carry p

I asked my friend Virginia Stem Owens, who’s written 13 books and many poems but never a haiku, if she’d write one for my blog. She was getting ready to go to a Lenten talk on Jonah. She called back two hours later with this: Jonah, full of spleen, Lost both to whale and to worm In God’s gotcha game. I loved the way she summarized the story and the humor and alliteration of “God’s gotcha game.” I didn’t mention that Virginia is a well-known Christian writer and was my

I started writing verse in the 5 syllable, 7 syllable, 5 syllable format when I had vertigo and couldn’t get up to write things down. My fingers could remember things my head couldn’t. I called it haiku. Most of what I wrote was a form of whining: my brain spins. I fall awry. bitter thoughts creep in like patient roaches. dreary morning still in bed hungry the kitchen is a long way off woman with floaters in her eyes waves away gnats that aren’t really there wo

I had strep throat. Two weeks ago Thursday, I woke up not feeling well and begged off strength training. Had Joel take me to Vanderbilt walk-in clinic, where they diagnosed me. I always feel guilty when I don’t go to strength training. I never feel like going, but of course, I feel great afterwards. So when I got my diagnosis, I felt impending doom because, you know, this could be the one that takes me out, but I was also relieved that there was something wrong and I wasn

Yuccas are blooming on Jubilee Bridge from Fisk to the other side of the tracks.

Small Talk Small talk is the toad You kiss on your way to find New friends, warts and all. Kim Blittle and I became friends after we bonded over our dislike of small talk. Our conversation set me thinking. What’s the purpose of small talk? We’re all looking for something from other people. When I was younger it was a way to meet guys. Like the princess who kissed frogs to find the one who would turn into a prince. So, I started a poem that turned into a haiku. I had the m

I’m flossing my teeth and steering with my elbow on this two-lane stretch of K-15. A red Gran Torino rides my tail, then passes going eighty like he does every day. One day I let him run interference but had to stop when the shaking started. Couldn’t keep up. Now I’ve got all these slowpokes to finesse. I’m behind a pickup with a black-headed woman Sticking her head out the window. When I pass, I see it’s a goat. I reach down to get my coffee and almost run into the ta

After her book, Flight Behavior, which deals with climate change, a reviewer asked Barbara Kingsolver how she could be so optimistic. She answered this way: “I’m a hopeful person, though not necessarily optimistic . . . . The pessimist would say, ‘Oh it’s going to be a terrible winter; we’re all going to die.’ The optimist would say, ‘Oh, it’s going to be all right; I don’t think it’ll be that bad.’ The hopeful person would say, ‘Maybe someone’s going to be alive in February

Hi, I’m Essie. Welcome to my website, where I want to share poems that didn’t make it into the book, some stuff I’ve read or heard and liked, and what I’ve been thinking. I thought I’d call it “I’ve Been Thinking.” Thanks to Nia Hendricks who designed this vehicle for me. Nia lives in Germantown Commons, and besides being a website designer, she’s gorgeous, a good friend and a really fine singer. Check her out on YouTube. I put together my book, Slow Twitch, from old poems,