Category Archives: Slice of Life

(This is for the Slice of Life challenge, hosted by Two Writing Teachers. We write on Tuesdays about the small moments in the larger perspective and then all through March — every single day  …  You write, too.)

Drama belongs
on the stage,
actors reading
lines written by
another, words
flung from cannon
like shot from a script,
not in the practice
basement of a band
like ours – casual
rockers finding
release in song –
storming out
disagreement
until ever chord
seems broken

Peace (discordant),
Kevin

(This is for the Slice of Life challenge, hosted by Two Writing Teachers. We write on Tuesdays about the small moments in the larger perspective and then all through March — every single day  …  You write, too.)

Ice solid
from slumber,
the compost
sleeps, and still,
we keep placing
blanket after blanket
of grinds, decay and
peels: a pea,
to find a princess

Peace (in the bin),
Kevin

(This is for the Slice of Life challenge, hosted by Two Writing Teachers. We write on Tuesdays about the small moments in the larger perspective and then all through March — every single day  …  You write, too.)

Oh no
here we go;

So:
Snow

Peace (falling),
Kevin

(This is for the Slice of Life challenge, hosted by Two Writing Teachers. We write on Tuesdays about the small moments in the larger perspective and then all through March — every single day  …  You write, too.)

It begins
in ink,
a request
to think,
a chance
to write,
I think,
I might …

(The National Writing Project has a connection to PEN Ukraine, which has asked NWP for poems and writings as a show of support, pieces which will be shared with writers in Ukraine. I wrote the following poem to share.)

Peace (to this broken world),
Kevin

(This is for the Slice of Life challenge, hosted by Two Writing Teachers. We write on Tuesdays about the small moments in the larger perspective and then all through March — every single day  …  You write, too.)

raw
like this

days
like this

wet
like this

it’s warmth
I miss

Peace (blah),
Kevin

(This is for the Slice of Life challenge, hosted by Two Writing Teachers. We write on Tuesdays about the small moments in the larger perspective and then all through March — every single day  …  You write, too.)

Tiny Sunday Moments

beats bleed through
my son’s headphones,
fingers raking keys,
his head shaking to
rhythms of collaboration

the youngest dog, sound asleep,
not a second of hesitation,
she’s claimed a patch of grass
in a yard of water and mud

frustration with the paper,
this past Sunday,
vacant inner sections,
what we’re missing, now,
I may never know

the elder dog, shuffling,
so slow, stubbornly sniffing
his way through every other
inch of curb and grass

constantly drawn to news,
the screen scroll, thumbing fast,
the menacing world at war,
flinch as headlines, blare

on a chair, in the sun,
closing eyes, listening
to wind, in a moment
of solitude I’d share
with those who need it,
more, if only I could

Peace (in Ukraine),
Kevin

(This is for the Slice of Life challenge, hosted by Two Writing Teachers. We write on Tuesdays about the small moments in the larger perspective and then all through March — every single day  …  You write, too.)

From the window,
what we see
on a barren tree:
six flickering cardinals,
flashing red and gray,
with wings in flight –
partners in love,
dancing in sunlight –
a hint of Spring,
beautiful to me

Peace (watching),
Kevin

(This is for the Slice of Life challenge, hosted by Two Writing Teachers. We write on Tuesdays about the small moments in the larger perspective and then all through March — every single day  …  You write, too.)

Driving home, Friday:

my attention is broken
by an errant basketball
sitting still and abandoned
on the double yellow
dividing lines

Not a person in sight,
as my mind imagines
the possibilities of play,
an idea at rest stays at rest,
finding refuge at the end
of another long day

Peace (in observation),
Kevin

(This is for the Slice of Life challenge, hosted by Two Writing Teachers. We write on Tuesdays about the small moments in the larger perspective and then all through March — every single day  …  You write, too.)

A week-old icicle hangs
with impatience
off the roof near
the front door,
sipping off a drink
from gravity’s pour;
it’s a slow-moving
race that ends
at the floor

Peace (watching in wonder),
Kevin

Two poems
I wrote
about home
gather inside
a collection
of community,
like a river
of skipping stones,
where words
flitter next to art
and photographs,
a city-wide effort
to remember, together:
not one of us
is ever alone

Peace (and home),
Kevin

PS — some context — two of my submitted poems were included in a new digital exhibit opened yesterday through our city library on the theme of “home”:

• https://forbeslibrary.org/exhibit2022/ 
• https://forbeslibrary.org/exhibit2022/prose-poetry/kevin-hodgson/
• https://forbeslibrary.org/exhibit2022/prose-poetry/kevin-hodgson-2/