Bulky (an acrostic poem)

Image: news.yale.edu/sites/default/files/styles/featured_media/public/yalenews_234167202-cc.jpeg

Being a ballerina had always been his dream

Underneath the bright lights, dancing en pointe

Looking into infinity as he bounded across the stage

Knowing he was the center of everyone’s attention

Yet he knew that being a hippopotamus was going to make it difficult

Roots (an acrostic poem)

 

Reaching down to find your center

Obtaining nutrients from the fertile soil around you

Organizing and grounding in your immediate world

Though you sway in the winds of change

Serenity is yours because your anchors run deep

 

Image: cff2.earth.com/uploads/2018/12/26100659/How-plants-alter-their-roots-to-adjust-to-soil-moisture–730×410.jpg

Focus (an acrostic poem)

Feeling sick, Mercedes counted the bathroom tiles one more time

Outside she could still hear Jeffery prowling around the bedroom

Couldn’t he leave for work already?  He’s going to be late.

Until he leaves I’m not leaving here.  I need to find my center.  I need to…

She threw up in the toilet again.  At least maybe it was his.