Crow Friday: The Blanket

It’s not just a blanket

Of yarn and red silk

That her father

Bought for her to hold.

It covered her spirit.

It warmed her soul.

It protected her

From the monster’s shadows

That scaled

Her bedroom walls.

Although her father’s gone,

A piece of the blanket

Still remains.

The only thing left over

From the time

She was a fearful little girl.

©️mark tulin

Crow Friday: Gooey Poems


My poems

Are like homemade

Chocolate chip cookies–

Fresh, gooey

And warm.

I try to bake

Them slowly

With a little bit

Of my soul.

Each poem is flavorful,

Each stanza

stands alone.

I mix

Just enough sugar,

Flour and butter–

Not too sweet,

Not too dry.

I taste the poem

Out loud.

I wash it down

With an ice-cold

Glass of milk.

And wrap the poems

In a cute, red bow.

©️mark tulin