Bio

Linda Conroy, a retired social worker, likes to write about the connection between human nature and the natural world, and to observe the changing times. She enjoys trying new poetry forms and is the author of a poetry collection, Ordinary Signs.

Cracks
split
that old
cement slab
beside the tool shed.
Pink bindweed creeps onto the lot,
covers edges of our childhood's antic hopscotch game.

One two three four, hop, five six seven, hop, one two three four five six seven eight nine, home!

Remember that litheness, rousing pleasure, every day
of luck, of pluck, the chance for play
before adulthood's
peacefulness
creates
new
grace.