tears
   when
    we
   have
     to
   leave
   your
  height
  chart
    on
   the
  door
  jamb

 

Published by

Sally Biggar

Sally Biggar lives in the mid-coast region of Maine. Little did she know 30 years ago, when she moved to the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State, that she would eventually find herself inexorably drawn, like a salmon, back to her birthplace ? to fields ringed with stone walls, a granite coastline, fresh-water lakes and flaming fall foliage. She draws inspiration for her poetry from daily walks with her husband and eavesdropping anywhere, all the time. She began writing haiku in 2010, but now primarily writes tanka, which have appeared most recently in red lights, Eucalypt, Ribbons, GUSTS and Moonbathing.

5 thoughts on “”

  1. So poignant! I know one family who took theirs with them. Love this small poem.

  2. This hits home….so final. We have our pencil scratches on the wall, here. This form is truly an extension of content. Beautifully penned.

  3. So meaningful. Our charts of heights remain some 40 years later and our grandchildren compare theirs with their parents!

Respond here