Coins are heavy
notes are light.
Clouds walk on stilts
for your delight.
Photo and poem by Rachel McAlpine
Coins are heavy
notes are light.
Clouds walk on stilts
for your delight.
Photo and poem by Rachel McAlpine

In a personal
ground-level
crisis
a mask may descend.
Take it off.
Then attend
to a child
or a friend.
Poem and photo by Rachel McAlpine

Fortunately
this experience gives you
the experience required
to survive
an experience
like this.
poem and photo by Rachel McAlpine

Sorry isn’t very nice.
Sorry’s better fat than thin,
out than in,
and better once than twice.
poem and photo of a coffee spill by Rachel McAlpine

If you want eternal life
don’t be a human
or a web site.
Be
a sea
anenome.
poem and photo by Rachel McAlpine

Yard by yard
it’s hard.
Inch by inch,
it’s a cinch.
You’re in pursuit
of happiness.
But happiness
is running after you.
poem and photo by Rachel McAlpine

Say less.
Mean more.
Win the match.
Lose the score.
poem and photo by Rachel McAlpine

When in doubt
do something
that you’ve done before.
When in pain
do something
that you’ll never do again.
poem and photo by Rachel McAlpine

I wanted to give you a poem
eighty years back
when you were first-born
and armies were rising
and peace receding.
You learned about consultation
in the womb.
I wanted to give you a poem
to thank you
for protecting me
and holding my hand
and showing the way
and making peace
without any fights or feuds
or atom bombs.
The poem sat in my head for weeks
waiting for Mother’s attention.
On a short dark day
lop-sided day
turn-around day
a fence of shards and sand
and shrapnel sprang up
between the poem and me.
So I clambered over the fence
ripping my shorts
on splinters
lost a shoe
and clambered back to you
the almost perfect baby
to give you what you lacked
the one thing all big sisters need:
your very own big sister
just like Jill
to shelter and protect you
and hold your hand
and take the lead
on dark days
and on bright days too
the way big sisters do.
with love from Rachel 23 June 2016