Tag Archives: Pamela Joyce Shapiro

Pamela Joyce Shapiro

Every Morning

When you are reading
in front of the Eastern
window, light resting on
your graying crown, as though
you were a deity
of fictional thought, fraught
with some mind’s best idea,
a story filling you
like pomegranates and
lemons, I imagine
you younger, writing lines
in the marbled notebook
that disappeared with time.


A cognitive psychologist intrigued by memory and language, Pamela Joyce Shapiro writes poetry to capture thoughts and moments otherwise forgotten.

Pamela Joyce Shapiro

Unseasonable

This is for the young widower
who loved his lawn more than life,
who once stood waist high in a sea
of snow and shoveled all of
Pickwick Drive, as though it were
the world, as though the blizzard
bore his private whiteout grief,
and we were all enemies
because we could not save her,
because children did not love her
neat expanse of edged green grass
that spread from seed like the cancer
in her womb at the end of spring.


A cognitive psychologist intrigued by memory and language, Pamela Joyce Shapiro writes poetry to capture thoughts and moments otherwise forgotten.