No Reason to Get Too Enthusiastic
It’s useless to put all my sweaters away. They tell me it’s spring, but it’s snowing. I want to get out all my gardening gear, but all of...
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This website includes my (growing) collection of poems published on Medium, Substack, and elsewhere, starting from the day my mother died, November 1, 2023, to the present.
For a complete listing of links to my poems and other cool stuff:
Nolcha Fox
Mar 241 min read
First to Leave
You were always first to leave, the first to put on coat and hat when wine was barely served, the first to walk away in midst of heated...
00
Nolcha Fox
Mar 231 min read
Leaves Don’t Leave
A few refuse to leave the tree. They cling to branches, never mind the wind and snow. Perhaps they think in spring they will rejuvenate,...
10
Nolcha Fox
Mar 231 min read
The Perfect Kitchen
I proudly placed our new microwave on the counter. Now our kitchen was complete. Come to find it blocked the light switch, but moved...
10
Nolcha Fox
Mar 231 min read
They Meet for Coffee
Every Wednesday, on the dot at 9 o’clock (unless the weather’s bad) the old guys meet. Same table at the diner, though there’s fewer of...
10
Nolcha Fox
Mar 221 min read
Ready or Not
My mother was a butterfly, a grasshopper. She flitted between flowers, basked in the sun. She sparkled. She gave no thought to the coming...
50
Nolcha Fox
Mar 201 min read
Who Knows What to Expect
The weather is late again, bringing rain instead of wine. She’s still dressed in her pajamas, too distracted by my ex-husband to remember...
40
Nolcha Fox
Mar 201 min read
I’m No Barbie
My Barbie never aged, she always looked the same, with boobs that should have brought her to the ground. Her hair was always perfect. Her...
00
Nolcha Fox
Mar 191 min read
Emily, I Can’t Pet Sit Anymore
I’m sorry, Emily, you need to get Hope out of here as soon as possible. It’s wrecking our lives and our home. We’ll have to replace the...
10
Nolcha Fox
Mar 191 min read
The Poet and Her Husband Go to the Market
Her husband drives them to the market. The poet sees the leaves as little cups of sunlight. Her husband comments about the sorry state of...
10
Nolcha Fox
Mar 171 min read
Knitted Together
While waiting in line, the woman behind me knitted my hair into a baby blanket for a child on the bus that never came. The woman knitted...
10
Nolcha Fox
Mar 161 min read
Time Has Wings Made of Wax
Time thinks he’s free to fly rings round the sun. He can’t feel the drag we poor souls add to minutes as we hitch a ride, clinging...
00
Nolcha Fox
Mar 161 min read
Broken Again
All of me is shards, as though I were a bowl, a mirror, pomegranate, something whole that death smashed with a fist. My insides greet the...
00
Nolcha Fox
Mar 151 min read
Unexplained
He was alarmed to see his sons leave sprint marks on the lawn. His sweat and strain was all in vain in less than half a second. Looking...
10
Nolcha Fox
Mar 151 min read
Homage to My Hips
My hips knock glasses off tables. My hips knock cans off shelves. My hips knock eyeballs out of sockets. My hips pop jeans seams. My hips...
50
Nolcha Fox
Mar 151 min read
Another Family Dinner
We’re gathered around the table, eating with the ghosts. They know a chair is waiting. There’s always too much food. We pass the sweet...
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Nolcha Fox
Mar 141 min read
Crushed Shadows
Before I can understand what I’ve lost, grief crushes me with awkward mumbles from well-wishers. It suffocates me under floral...
10
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