World Read Aloud Day, 2022

Educators, Librarians, and Parents/Guardians of the little ones . . . Lend me your eyes . . .

Space, Time, and Raspberries

Cover credit: Turine Tran

Kate Allen Fox, has written a beautiful treasure of a children’s book, Pando: A Living Wonder of Trees. I own it and I highly recommend it, especially to anyone who reads to children or spends time with children who read. (It’s available from Leopard Print Books, Barnes and Noble, your local bookseller, and Amazon.

On February 2, 2022, children’s authors will be offering FREE virtual readings to students everywhere through World Read Aloud Day (WRAD).

Kate is thrilled to participate this year and is offering six 20-minute slots to read her science-based, nonfiction picture book, Pando: A Living Wonder of Trees, which has been named one of the best books of the year by School Library Journal and Chicago Public Library.

If you are a teacher or a librarian and would like to sign up for one of Kate’s…

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On: Loving What I Create

A free verse poem

My apartment leasing office. Every season, it’s appropriately themed, and this one . . . made me smile. I figured I’d share it with you. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

it wasn’t a when it was a where . . .
I moved hundreds of miles away
from my home state and fell in
love with rolling hills, vast mountains,
and four seasons. 
I knew I had several lives within me — dwelling
in comfort and begging to be set free.

before this change, I could write.
I could tell tales, weave poetry, and
set into motion articles of any kind,
but this change . . . changed me.
I won’t tell you my struggles
disappeared, no — instead, they further
shaped me and lifted me to a place
I needed for comfort.

I had to get away from where I
was to get to where I am. 
I’ll repeat . . .
I had to get away from where I
was to get to where I am.
I had become a shell of myself,
cracked on every edge, yearning
to be seen by anyone who would
widen their eyes in my direction.

I wrote my way out of traps I
placed for myself — wrote my way
out of arguments with my baby brother
over our (at the time) drug addict of 
a mother — wrote my way out of 
cells built for my kind . . . I learned to
push my anger into the deepest pit
of my belly and create . . .
I learned to pull myself out of 
the pits of hell and create.

I began to love this gift.
away from you — where I could
grow — away from all of you — where
I could stretch myself up and out.
I am touching the clouds now.
I am breathing clean air now.
I am comfortable in my skin now

this jungle of a world sinks its
teeth in, one by one, and I have
had to run away from the bite marks
pressed into my flesh. 
I wear layers, always prepared for
winter even when it’s seasons away.
God has been kind to me, overall — I’m
still able to cut a finger or two 
and bleed willingly.

I am giving my gift to thousands.

I pray I’m changing someone
and even if I’m not — I’ve changed.
I’ve changed.

I’ve changed.

and I love it.

Originally published in CRY Magazine via Medium.

Musical Selection: Drake|Jungle