Dorianne Laux is an American poet who lives in Raleigh, North Carolina. When speaking of the qualities she admires in poetry she said “Craft is important, a skill to be learned, but it’s not the beginning and end of the story. I want the muddled middle to be filled with the gristle of living.” The cat calls for her dinner. On the porch I bend and pour brown soy stars into her bowl, stroke her dark fur. It's not quite night. Pinpricks of light in the eastern sky. Above my neighbor's roof, a transparent moon, a pink rag of cloud. Inside my house are those who love me. My daughter…

This poem made me smile and that was enough to make it my choice for this week. It also made me think of my grandmother. She has definitely retained her spunky attitude as she has aged and I hope I can do the same. (Hi Grandma!) When you see me sitting quietly, Like a sack left on the shelf, Don't think I need your chattering. I'm listening to myself. Hold! Stop your sympathy! Understanding if you got it, Otherwise I'll do without it! When my bones are stiff and aching, And my feet won't climb the stair, I will only ask one favor: Don't bring me no rocking chair. When…