WENDY CALDWELL MALONEY
Click headshot for bio
WHO'S READING YOU?
Who's reading you?
she asked
as though what I wrote
didn’t count
unless someone of significance
was poring over my words
and saying yes
or no
​
she told me writing would save my life
it is
and it does
just like my brush on a pebbled page
​
just like the endless colors I see
in every tree
and the patterns of discarded pods, pooled by rains in the street
​
just like the burgundy beat
of fingertips on a table’s edge
​
or the golden tone of a voice singing
“like an old friend to save your life”
​
it stabilizes me
helps me know my feet are under me and my center is sound
​
Who’s reading me?
​
I ... am reading me
in every book
in every face
in every sound
in every bone and every perfect movement
and breath-catching pain
​
I am reading me
as I unfold
on the page
​
fractions of memories
buoyant and aching
glimmers of sun and
cavernous, hollow emptiness
​
Life comes at me
gently pummeling
with urgencies and scrawled notes
and when I ‘come to’ —
I troll for joy and
snatch it
as it breaks the surface
and catches the
light
​
"Niagara Calligraphic" by Wendy Caldwell Maloney. Watercolor.
​
CARRY MY COLOR
​
let the air blow through me
carry my color
pour it
onto the page
​
guide my brush
heart thrumming
sound and light
open me
​
I want to take you by the hand
and show you
what I see
​
walking
where the live edges are
sea and stones
in endless conversation
​
sink into
the cool, wet sand
the ebullient ruffle of waves
​
gratitude
spills onto
our sun-drenched faces
MY FATHER’S DAUGHTER
​
I am
my father’s daughter
​
drawn deep into the woods
the silent presence
of moss
​
skimming through
Canadian waters, the sun touches all pull the sail in
hand to teeth
​
classical crescendos make
our hearts soar
with the poignance
of life
​
tears are the vehicle of deepest expression
never a need to hide
our tender hearts from
the world
​
language
beauty
the soft, rich thrum of guitar
​
through
emergent gratitude
and tragedy,
we find our way back into
each other’s
lives
​