A cement path leads out to a dock and the shore of the Chesapeake bay. Autumn reddish brown trees line the path. The sky is overcast and moody. A distant shore hosts an evergreen forest.
2026 Poetry Challenge - Poems

Path

“An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity.” Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., speech: “Birth of a New Age,” 1956.

They don't belong / No I in team

Closed doors / Open hearts

Not in my backyard / Welcome in

I don't care / How are you?

Stand your ground / Here, rest your feet

Scare starve segregate / Calm feed gather

Hate as policy / Love as calling

Torch-lit riots / Candlelight vigils

Fear of those others / Hope for us all

One way sows annihilation;
another nourishes mutualism.

Which path beckons —
Me or We?

Poet, writer, photographer and slightly distracted day-dreamer who muses on (gestures at everything) from the petty to the profound. On a semi-serious, fully earnest search for meaning in the mayhem. Perimenopausal, melanin-deprived, irony-enhanced recovering perfectionist Type A+ millennial woman. She balances the ever-continuing quest to Know Better/Do Better, with the distinct ego-death of parenting a smart, full-throated child who was raised to know the power of her voice. Mothering a teen means catching a side-eye in almost every interaction. Diana navigates the minutiae of everyday life through seeking the magical in the mundane. Follow along and laugh with her as the world flames out!

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