Slivers of Red

I found another shard of it. That sliver of red stuck out in a story of plague--a sharp, bright bit that might have cut me again. But I already knew the trick of picking it up without too much pain. I'd gathered plenty of others like it already. Those were in stories too, though some of them were cocooned in songs and needed to be unwrapped first. I know that it won't look the same even if I find every last piece. I've stopped worrying about that now. The point is I'm looking for them, rediscovering the contours and angles of each of these bits of me, and glorying in the way they feel at home in my chest.

My tree grows new leaves
after winter claims old ones.
New fruits will grow too.

Photo by Riho Kitagawa on Unsplash

Song choice: Kintsugi by Lindsey Stirling

Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem is linked to Poets and Storytellers United

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Meeting April 2026

 April is like everything else; it meets you like you meet it. I have known toothy Aprils. Ones that roared their victory over winter's leftover crumbs and devoured them to get even stronger. I've had Aprils that curl up next to me, tucking irrepressible wildflowers into my pocket while my head was pressed to a wall. Those Aprils put their arms around me and whispered into my ear while cherry blossoms rained around us. This one is a curious April, perhaps a little stubborn. Those flowers will bloom, though the wind will blow. And then we will see what colors they take on, what fruits will feed us in October.

the bud doesn't need
to know it's final color
in order to bloom

Photo by Rui Xu on Unsplash

Song Choice for this Groove: What's Up? by Four Non Blondes

Liner Notes for this Groove: This is linked to Poets and Storytellers United's Friday Writings post. The prompt asked us to find inspiration in a group of quotes about April. I think I took a little bit from both T.S. Eliot and Marty Rubin to come up with something that felt like me.

By Rommy Cortez-Driks

Small Magics

I am a collector of small magics--

the silkiness of sidewalk moss,

the scrap of blue in a patchwork of clouds,

the bud on the end of a twisted branch,

an unexpected kindness.

I could press them dry

separately on their own page.

But I like letting them simmer,

stirred together in my pocket

until together

they take on a hopeful luster

and wholesome texture

that will keep me fed for days.

Photo by Almos Bechtold on Unsplash

Song Choice: A Kind of Magic by Queen

Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem is linked to Poets and Storytellers United's Friday Writings, where Rosemary asked us to write about something we feel strongly about. I feel quite strongly about holding on to the little things that keep my hope alive, especially in the middle of all the world's chaos. 

Sometimes my walks with my corgi Jelly Bean turn up some delightful things to notice. Sometimes its as simple as a stranger pulling over to help my Darling Youngest when their car had an electrical glitch, and then following him home to make sure he got here safely. I never got the woman's name but I am very glad for her kindness and calming presence when D.Y. needed it. 

By Rommy Cortez-Driks