Essays Fiction and Poetry by Andrea LeDew
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Essays Fiction and Poetry by Andrea LeDew
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No longer young, no longer small, Eighteen-year-olds can do it all! Can fight in wars, can sneak a drink, Can tell us how and why they think, Can date online, can post a rant: They can! Except for when they can’t. No longer bound by dull commands, They sail to fight in foreign lands, …
While the flautest flaunts his fluting, The Elitist flouts all fleeting Equal treatment, equal eating, Equal talking, equal muting; And he flaunts his wares and wherefores, Climbing stairs and social ladders, Putting airs on, trying to flatter, And forgets what he is there for; While he’s spurning brave ambition, While he’s turning all …
I first posted this poem in 2018, after watching a dramatic series about real bacteriologists in Germany, who fought to vanquish cholera through the scientific method, in 1888, and won the Nobel prize for it. There are many parallels to today’s situation and the race to find a vaccine for coronavirus, from the fierceness …
Heavenly residents, Beings of light, Poised in the air, Ethereal, Gazing down At our oozing flesh, Feeling naught But pity. Copyright 2018 Andrea LeDew
I wrote this poem a few years ago when my son with autism was attending art therapy classes at a place called Indigo Art Therapy. The Indigo was taken from the concept of Indigo children, who were a class of children who didn’t necessarily do that well in school but were brilliant and creative …
Tiny Little pillows, Tiny little knives, Think how you’ve impacted Tiny little lives. How I miss your smiling, Yes, and your embrace, Tiny little woman, Tiny little face. Copyright 2018 Andrea LeDew
You’d think I would be thin by now, You’d think I would have shrunk, And yet the things you’d think you’d think You’d be wrong to have thunk. Copyright 2018 Andrea LeDew
First published in April 2018, this poem was inspired by a book review in the New York Times discussing former FBI director, James Comey’s, recent book about his experiences in government. The poem is voiced, with great artistic license, from what I imagine to be Comey’s point of view, as he addresses his …
I may be stating the obvious, here. But kids with developmental disabilities face many daunting obstacles over the course of their young lives. Often, they spend significantly more time overcoming these challenges than their typical siblings and friends do. The Race Typical kids start the race with a nice, open, level lane in front of …
A haggard, ragged cuticle, A hair tuft, out of place, A precious moment, wasted: In your world they don’t exist. In your virtual perfection, With your pretty, perfect face, Everybody keeps on smiling. No bad smells or aftertastes. Only one small thing is missing, Only one thing that you lack: It’s my …
My cup, it runneth over: My life is full, A cereal bowl I carry, ‘crost the carpet. My cup, it runneth over: I add and take And pile, and make A thousand mounds of owning. My cup, it runneth over: The corners creep, The order seeps, Until I’m suffocated. My cup, it …
Spring. This is the time of year, even in the coldest climate, when your thoughts turn to gardens. You may not, necessarily, spend a lot of time thinking about the work of gardening: the clearing of the spent beds, the weeding, the digging, the planting, the fertilizing, the mulching. But you do relish and long …
A brown paper envelope, Inscribed by you, addressed to me, With quaint, old-fashioned stamper-y: It lies upon the butcher block, Its letters screaming at me. Inscrutable, decipherable To but a few, your idio- Syncratic script Crawls ‘cross the bundle: Fraktur, shadow-sculpting. And yet, it trails both here and there, And deviates, not following …
Mother, I miss you, For I can no longer Spill over the fruits Of my harvest To your willing ears, To your captive smile, To your thousand Acclamations. Mother, I miss you: My distaff, divine rod, My compass, pointing True North, Guiding me through peril, Traversing the morass Of fear, quenching me, …
This was originally published on the blog hop Simple Homeschool’s A Homeschool Day In The Life. The theme is Day In the Life, and I outlined a day that would make a pirate blush, in terms of chaos and mayhem. That is to say, not atypical. Hope you enjoy taking a peek! …
I originally posted this poem shortly after my mother’s death in 2018. Now, in light of last night’s debate, and the claims that we are “turning a corner,” even as we peak, at the highest level of daily COVID-19 cases ever, it seems there are those out there who need reminding, of what it …
This essay was first published in early 2018, the day after the Parkland massacre in South Florida. A young man returned to his high school –named after Marjorie Stoneman Douglas, the author of River of Grass, a scientific love song to the Florida Everglades. He then proceeded to open fire, killing seventeen students. With …
When you’ve had your smartphone for a while, you accumulate a lot of clutter. You know the kind I mean: old texts, emails from people you hardly remember, screenshots, reminders and notes to yourself, bookmarks, saved articles and e-books. Our phones have taken the place of photo albums, journals, messages scrawled on the back of …
When my eldest two kids, my girls, were teenagers, one of their favorite things to do was to go to the used book store. The one downtown. It is nothing much to look at, on its face. As you walk in, sometimes past a homeless person who is taking a break from the library nearby, …
When you are a homeschooling parent, and even more so, when you are a homeschooling parent with a special needs child, your life can be one endless list of things that should be done. At any given time: The house needs cleaning, sorting, or clutter-busting. The kids need clean clothes, meals, or exercise. Your spouse …
We are having a rare bout of cold weather in North Florida. And when I say “cold”, I am not using the regional definition, that is, anything under 60 degrees Fahrenheit. I am talking twenties and thirties here. Snow was reported. I had to scrape frost off my car. Such things are not common around …
The year is almost over. The year is almost done. And I think of all I’ve failed at And I think of what I’ve won. And if nothing is for certain, And if nothing has been gained, But I walk a little lighter And I feel a lesser pain; And I visit less …
As I approach my golden year, My jewel in the crown, perhaps: This emotions-partly-frozen year, This artificial, jointed year, This sedentary comforts year Shall fade into the past; And I And I And I And I Shall rule myself At last. Copyright 2018 Andrea LeDew
Warm. Soft. Cozy. This is the time of year when we snuggle under them, wrap ourselves in them, tuck old and worn ones under our favorite shivering pets, cover our legs with them, ready for an invigorating sleigh ride. And rumor has it, some of us even knit them! I am not such …
