What It Looked Like In My Mother’s House

Even though it’s Sunday and I don’t post poems on Sunday (why not? I don’t have a good reason) I found an old notebook from the 90’s and this poem.


Old chairs, rubber bands,

same flat couch

same books,

History of the Jewish People

from one to infinity.

Bottles and bottles

of old nail polish.

Every single color

is red.

Esther Cohen
Let me tell you why I'm here, and why I hope you'll join me. I am here to poem, to play with words, to tell stories when I can, and to ask you for yours. Words are what I love, how I see, and what I say. Words are how I know my life, and how I find my friends. I'm here to ask you to join me. Right here. To send me your stories, and your poems. And to read mine when you can.

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