The Emergent Self

Questioning what we're told it means to be human

Topic

Poetry

Poems published on The Emergent Self.

A folded American flag resting on an empty rocking chair on a small-town front porch at sunset, with the mailbox flag raised

Dear America, Part 1: I’ve Done Everything You Told Me

A veteran who kept his end of the bargain writes home to ask what happened.
Old dining chairs and a cradle stacked beside a woodpile in front of a white farmhouse with smoke rising from the chimney

Dear America, Part 2: Burning the Furniture

A house that warms itself by burning its own furniture, and a hope that it finds tomorrow.
A suburban street seen through a lace curtain; a young couple, their toddler and a beagle on the lawn across the way

Dear America, Part 3: The Neighbors with the Beagle

Trust lost in both directions, and a country that now fears the young family next door.
A woven handbasket on a weathered pier, with the Statue of Liberty small and distant in the harbor fog

Dear America, Part 4: Because I Care

Old wounds, the myth of exceptionalism, and a wry question about Lady Liberty, all sent with love.
A full moon over an empty Main Street at night, one lit window, and an unopened envelope lying beneath a mailbox

Dear America, Part 5: The Opposite of Love

The moon landing, 9-11, King George, and broken promises lead to the hardest postcard of all.