I float with the current, closing my eyes with trust
in September sky and the horizon of letting go.
While the river laps a rhythmic lullaby for my breath
to rest upon. I join this waterway that knows how
to reach the sea without a plan.
Here, birdcalls settle in my ears warmly.
Here on the water, a quieting motion
outside of what humans have named.
© Ali Grimshaw 2025
Join a welcoming group of poets at dVerse Poets’ Pub HERE.
Photo of me afloat on the Tualatin River in Oregon.
outside my window some leaves still shine deep green while others
yellow to crisp edges
like differing rooms living through seasons of this house
holding a room of restful freshness
and outdated rooms yet to be revisited with today's view
a room of gatherings present and past
decades of dents and scratches, musicians and boardgames
voices absorbed by the grain of the enduring oak table
stairs where I have fallen with my hands full
and stairs where we held hands to steady the climb upward
there is a room where floating memories lighten as dust sparkles
another where music lives among the dancing shadows
today wet paint will secret away stories of the many inhabitants
while I alone remember the layers underneath
a treasured gratitude for a life within safe walls
when the golden leaves fall this September
who might enter through my blue sky doorway?
© Ali Grimshaw 2025
Join a welcoming group of poets at dVerse Poets’ Pub HERE. This prompt was inspired by Albert Garcia’s poem “August Morning,”
This is not my house, but a blue door I photographed in France in 2019.
My house does have a blue door.
She arrived alone.
An ocean away from her homeland
heart strong, with eagerness of empty hands.
Her name was Gunda
from the land of the Vikings
after legendary women of indomitable spirit.
What ways of living did she hold close
while settling in season after season
birthing babies her mother would never meet?
Did she ever regret leaving the nest
for this new unknown tree, after
she arrived alone?
© Ali Grimshaw 2025
This poem is in honor of my great-grandmother who came, by herself, to the U.S. from Norway when she was 18 years old. I don't know much about her but writing this made me curious and now I have fallen down a rabbit hole of websites to learn more.
The photo is a mural from Hillsboro, Oregon.
Join us at dVerse Poets' Pub
write a cherita, HERE.
and if
and if she had not become
quite so tame
what trees might she be at the top of now?
how many times has her heartvoice been drowned out
by training wheels and forced rewrites of others?
it is never too late to nourish, curve toward the sun
she is a flower like all flowers
her wildness knows how to bloom
without advice
© Ali Grimshaw 2025
Sitting with a bowl of fresh picked blueberries, I pop a handful in my mouth. Holding their sweetness, closing my eyes to absorb the flavor. I have waited months for this taste and will not take it for granted. This small celebratory act seems like the perfect way to honor Andrea Gibson whose words always reminded me to be present to the gifts of being alive. Tears fall for the loss of this poet today; mine, and many, many others. Andrea is someone I have never met and someone who changed me. How beautifully unimaginable to have lost someone so dear after only knowing them from their poems that offered a rope of connection, courage to live heart wide open, inspiration to keep going. I will cherish my small bowl of blue magic in honor of all the words Andrea put into the world.
soar on dear poet
I will keep adding stretch marks to my heart
fly free
© Ali Grimshaw 2025
Read A List of Things I Love by Andrea Gibson
© Ali Grimshaw 2025
Photo taken in the Columbia River Gorge, Oregon.
I am grateful to be a part of the Stafford Challenge Anthology 2024-25 which includes 200 poems from an international community of poets who committed to writing a poem a day for a year.
Featuring original work from acclaimed poets like Kim Stafford, Naomi Shihab Nye, CMarie Fuhrman, and more, this collection represents just a fraction of the thousands of poems written between January 17, 2024, and January 16, 2025, by the poets of The Stafford Challenge community. Inspired by the daily writing practice of William Stafford, these writers—from seasoned poets to those discovering their voices—dedicated themselves to this yearlong poetic journey, and each poem here stands as a tribute to that commitment.
This collection is a celebration of the creative spirit, dedicated to anyone who has ever felt the deep pull of language, creativity, and the desire to express something potent and true.
The Stafford Challenge 2024-25 Anthology can be found in both paperback and ebook formats at all major bookstores and retailers. Please use the links below for our preferred purchasing options.
wanting full sun while full well knowing I am a shade plant
as hours of sunlight in our landscape keep shifting
seeing us wilting
I am willing to consider transplanting
while irrigating with honesty
wondering weeds away
trusting rainclouds and the pollination between us
© Ali Grimshaw 2025 - Photo taken on a lovely Colorado farm.
Join a welcoming group of poets at dVerse Poets’ Pub. Quadrille Monday. HERE
"Imagine a garbage can," she said, "whatever size you desire."
My garbage can was the extra large green container the type you pull to the curb so big you can't lift it. I saw myself throwing in rocks of worry, dirt clods of sorrow, and flinging feelings of anxiety. All these emotions turned into things I could hold and heave. They all landed in the can with a satisfying sound.
"Now watch it be hauled away by the truck."
I wanted that relief of seeing it all carried away but instead I said, "I need another one."
Her voice replied, "You can have as many as you need."
© Ali Grimshaw 2025
Photo taken in Amsterdam, 2019.
© Ali Grimshaw 2025
Celebrating my mother, all mothers, and Mother Earth, who nurtures us all.
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 