by Mary McKSchmidt | Oct 12, 2026 | 2026, Poetry
That year God came to earth disguised as a sixty-four-pound golden retriever who inched her body next to mine nights I sat on the floor, knees pressed to chest, head...
by Mary McKSchmidt | Sep 28, 2026 | Poetry, 2026
May these eyes be tuned to the shadesof the rainbow washing across skies at dawnlike those of the hummingbird discerning colors in search of nectar. May they be as sensitive to traces of light and movement as the eyesof the barn owl in the forest, as keen as the...
by Mary McKSchmidt | Sep 14, 2026 | A Bench and a Tree, 2026
“Rose.” It was barely a whisper. More like a gentle breeze stirring the spirea on a summer afternoon. The nearby caregiver looked up, surprised. Tears edged the corners of her eyes as she watched the older woman timidly touch the rose’s velvety petal. It was the...
by Mary McKSchmidt | Sep 7, 2026 | 2026, A Bench and a Tree
Four of us gathered in the sweltering heat at the shaded picnic table alongside the Day Use Trail at Ottawa Sands County Park in July. The meeting was prompted by comments from a book club discussion of Mother’s and my book, Miracle Within Small...
by Mary McKSchmidt | Aug 31, 2026 | Uncategorized
Most do not see mefor the pink pirouette of the everlasting,the golden glow of the coreopsis, the fireworks of the devil’s darning needles.But I, who create a field of white lace,am invisible. Even when summer’s colorful pallet begins to fade, most do notnotice the...
