To Think that in the dim light of morning’s silence, i count the ways a bird calls; I’m here, I’m this small satisfaction earns me tonight quiet passage— gratitude and delight dawn isn’t a sanctuary, but i find reverence in the wonder of daylight this trial treasure brings breath and bone hope like the red of a berry found in snow this fortune to find a presence in light in this storm of life, sunbeam and bird song a serene quiet step on grass or snow that simple heed transforms yesterday's woes join me in mornings' walk of light, of bird, of rest—trust it brings soothing peace—in thought
Haiku Ukiah distant rain a palindrome of thunder— storms within these walls
Waves From the Inner Passage No more heroes in this landscape just the quiet repose of ocean burnishing with exquisite foam, but lacking the sound of waves Just the quiet repose of ocean hidden beneath discarded sand but lacking the sound of waves, and all the shells that came to rest Hidden beneath discarded sand each grain captures a passing thought and all the shells that came to rest, in these shores so far away from land. Each grain captures a passing thought burnishing with exquisite foam in these shores so far away from land, no more heroes in this landscape
Amelia Díaz Ettinger is a self-described ‘Mexi-Rican,’ born in México but raised in Puerto Rico. As a BIPOC poet and writer, she has two full-length poetry books published; Learning to Love a Western Sky by Airlie Press, and a bilingual poetry book, Speaking at a Time /Hablando a la Vez by Redbat Press, and a poetry chapbook, Fossils in a Red Flag by Finishing Line Press.
Grand Little Things 