Katherine's Coffeehouse

Tortuga

Because the matted hay blocked his wrinkled gaze, and because I am who I am, I felt the call to move him to a higher place. And thus, soft as a mother’s hum, I wrapped my fingers around the mottled shell, grazing the creases of his thick neck, raised him just a few inches, resting …

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red clouds, low clouds, sunset poem

Cloud Cover

Yesterday’s sunset, clouds so close to street, settling into early bedtime, red plugged into the sky, like a shorted nightlight – I thought Armageddon had come. #KatherinesCoffeehouse

Promise

When day looms long, heart too small to hold it, Earth, too, pensively looking at the stars, I find it works to encourage a reluctant smile. See how the universe grins back? “Oh, my darling Did you believe for one moment I’d divorce you? You are my beloved. Come now. Step closer. Let us renew …

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#KatherinesCoffeehouse

Conductor

This train wreck? Look closely. A hand reaches from the rubble. Take the trouble to reach back. Be the conductor. #KatherinesCoffeehouse #PoemsAroundTown See this poem live at Manassas City Hall.

There Are Days

And then, there are days when the world tears itself apart. Or maybe it’s just my heart. #KatherinesCoffeehouse

Good Night

See how time moves, slinking along like some aging cat, shoulders hunched against the moon, a silhouette of fur and philosophy? My dog barks at it, wants to rip its throat out. “Settle down now, dingo. We’ve all got our job to do. That’s a girl. Go lie down. It’s almost time for bed.”  

Teacher

Living as a poet is hard. See, the teacher is always changing, not just when September comes, but every moment the temperature drops, or the rain does the same. That moment you started to sweat? Or turn on the bathroom tap? Or revel in a short shower? Or cry? Those things, they make the coloring …

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poems Katherine Gotthardt

Heading Up

Do we all get where we’re headed? I’d like to believe I do. I’ve held a cold hand or two, rubbed a few backs, running my fingers, lightly, from illness’s base up to where it all ends. See, it’s a paradox. We come out top to bottom, but mortality begins at the foundation, works its …

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Katherine Gotthardt New Book

New Book Coming

It’s hard to believe only last year Bury My Under a Lilac was released, and I’m already ready to release another poetry collection. But when you write for a year at least once per week and you take the time to go back and edit, it might be time to think about publishing – again. …

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In Store

On course for spring, we run into frigidity, a storefront of lingering winter. See how we crash through the front window, streaking across the icy foyer, skidding our way to the stockroom, knocking down half-displays of navy capris and white t-shirts. They were just about to unpack the short-shorts, too. Too bad.   #KatherinesCoffeehouse

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