Thought Wheel

Ann Chiappetta

poems I forgot to send with last post

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Organizational Weeds

By Ann Chiappetta


Tempers are flaring

which one

Of us is being uncaring?

Out with the old

In with the new

Who is saying

What the other  is saying

is untrue?

We’ve tried facilitation, moderation, mediation

Yet not one of us can break through


Right now we’re treading water

Trying to reach the shoreline

While Fearing what lies ahead.


How do we keep our spirit, originality,

While meeting the growing needs of our members in good stead?

Who are we besides a group of folks who can’t see?

Who are we, what do we hope to achieve?


What has gone before has become insufficient

To lead us

What the future holds for us is indiscernible

Yet we must proceed

Forging ahead means breaking away


Can we, as a group, face the growing pains

Or will we spiral into a tangle of organizational weeds?



Sheaves of Hate

By Ann Chiappetta


Though the field could use tilling

With a temperate scythe

From it, Only the shimmer of heat rises


Awaiting the  bitter harvest

The exposure of cool earth is still

Far away yet

I hope and pray for the day when

We can both seed the garden with fertile respect

I will till the soil one more time,

Plant  the seeds

Nurture fragile shoots with pride

And with some trepidation

Hope our worlds coincide.


July 2012


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