Each day, inside these solid walls
I kiss these pretty curls
I’ve never been a flowery one
But God bless little girls.

Each day’s a gift here in this home,
Our challenges are all small
When I behold the fate of those
Who have no home at all.

The power’s on, there’s food on shelves,
And everyone is well
And all the rest is trifling
For those whose lives are hell.

Lately the world has shown
How quickly lives are changed,
How lives explode when countries die,
And leadership’s deranged.

To see a friend in failing health
And through it all endured
Those painless nights and upward turns
are by no means assured.

To watch the mother parent
Alone through naught but fate
Each landmark is a torrent
The days just add more weight.

I have no problems, truly
Trivialities at best
All that I have is details
I know where I am blessed.

Nichole M Dulin




There was a time, when the things I wrote
Could range into any place
Any fantasy
Any alternate reality
And I could push
My only worry was if my mother read them.
Gentle worries.

I’m so many more people now.
What will my children read in these words?
In these weaknesses?
In these fears?
In these mistakes?
In these passions?

Nichole M. Dulin