Ann K. Metlay - Photo Credit: John Keehn of Studio A Bit Blue
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About the Author
I have written since I was three when I cut words out of magazines, and arranged them into stories. During elementary school I wrote dozens of “books” to contribute to classroom libraries. In high school I wrote feature stories for the Daily Jacket, our school newspaper. I love challenges. These stories were born in a dare. “Write in unusual voices,” my friends said. “Bet you can’t invent vastly different ways and reasons people enter our local library parking lot.” I stopped with 20 stories this time, but already more stories are popping out. For forty years I taught special education, then reading. I relished my challenge to help children with cognitive impairments, language issues, and physical restrictions learn to love language, both producing it and basking within it. My filing cabinet contains many stories written by my students. I reread them and smile. I am now retired to Cottonwood, Arizona. I live with my two miniature dachshunds, Baruch and Dodi. Writing and reading continue to occupy my time. |
To Be A Tree In The Desert
Buffeted by winds.
blasted by sands,
baked by summer's
relentless sun.
The debris from these trees,
the jagged breaks in their limbs,
the bark, thickened into a shield,
the root gnarled around a rock.
Collected and assembled,
these speak to the textures,
the lines, the shapes,
of arid existence.
Buffeted by winds.
blasted by sands,
baked by summer's
relentless sun.
The debris from these trees,
the jagged breaks in their limbs,
the bark, thickened into a shield,
the root gnarled around a rock.
Collected and assembled,
these speak to the textures,
the lines, the shapes,
of arid existence.