Sleepy Morning

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© JBReid 2010

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Those Who Need a Voice

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This is an excerpt written  for The American Red Cross when a fire left many families homeless:      It is a rainy Monday morning and it marks the third week where a 24-7 Red Cross shelter has remained open in Bergen County, NJ.  Volunteers and staff silently file into a stark room to debrief on the status of the shelter. The sole volunteer who was on duty through the night is bleary eyed. Styrofoam cups filled with coffee clutter the meeting table and business begins.     They recap how two-hundred people were left homeless from a 5-story apartment fire. Seventy-five children are among the population. There were no injuries, but all property was destroyed: clothing, furniture, toys, books, and all items relied upon for day-to-day living. The subject of whether donations are tapped out is discuss while so much is needed to bring these families back from the ashes.      The day's orders include distribution of funds, vouchers, and emer...
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Coco: a furry feline friend

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First Hug      Fourteen years ago, I adopted two kittens, litter mates, Coco and Mango.  Coco was the delicate brother, the runt of the litter.  He appeared aloof but allowed me to scoop him into my arms for a first hug.  I loved his snow white boots and white chest. He was a handsome cat. We instantly knew we were meant to be together.       The first years brought a flurry of gymnastics between Coco and Mango.  They tackled and stalked one another, played endlessly with anything that moved, and their curiosity was boundless, from ordinary household items to the majesty of a sunrise. This photo was published in The Record, May 2002 .              Mr. Coco had a habit of running out the door whenever he could.  H knew he wasn't meant to be a house cat but a fearless hunter roaming the grass and bushes.  It would sometimes take an hour to retrieve  him back to the safety ...
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And the Woman Smiled

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"And the Woman Smiled" is the title of a debut poetry book which traces experiences from girlhood to adult, and beyond.  Published in my nom de plum, Gianna B. Reid, it is available on Amazon. Amazon Link  Here is a sample poem: Wind When I was a little girl, I believed trees created wind. The frantic motion of the branches was empirical proof. The howling confirmed it more. I thought if trees could just be still, the winds of march and November gusts would cease. Now I am older, wiser. Wind is because everyone is talking at once. And the Woman Smiled © Gianna B. Reid 2017 Amazon Link
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