InFlint and SteelbyE. Katherine KottarasPoinsettia & The Equinox & —A poem comprised of notes from my phone during March, April, and May in L.A.May 23, 20229May 23, 20229
InThe Orange JournalbyE. Katherine KottarasA Cinquain Chain: March in Los AngelesAnd reflections on walking under the Puffy Yellow Puffball TreesMar 9, 20224Mar 9, 20224
E. Katherine KottarasMy Mother Wore an Electric Blue Eye Around Her NeckA poem about the protection of mothers & grandmothers & daughters, of you & of meMar 15, 20225Mar 15, 20225
InFlint and SteelbyE. Katherine KottarasA Fibonacci Ode to This Cold L.A. DayA poem formed in the mathematical sequenceFeb 24, 20225Feb 24, 20225
InFlint and SteelbyE. Katherine KottarasI Thought the Grapevine Was DeadA poem on renewal and regeneration — and patienceFeb 21, 20226Feb 21, 20226
E. Katherine KottarasThe Parrots Are Back with Their Frenzied Shrieks and FlapsA poem drafted on a walk after spending two days in the E.R. with my kiddoFeb 16, 20221Feb 16, 20221
InFlint and SteelbyE. Katherine KottarasA Hot February in L.A.On searching for the wordsFeb 11, 20229Feb 11, 20229
InPaper PoetrybyE. Katherine KottarasI Looked Up to Find the Wild Iris Had BloomedA poem drafted on a hard dayFeb 2, 20224Feb 2, 20224
E. Katherine KottarasThree Nonets: Lizards, Pomegranates, and Blooming MagnoliaA poetry chain of lounging, planting, and lookingJan 26, 202210Jan 26, 202210
InFlint and SteelbyE. Katherine KottarasA January Morning in L.A.A haiku chain written after a walking meditationJan 26, 20221Jan 26, 20221
InThe Orange JournalbyE. Katherine KottarasTumbleweed: A Story of Searching in L.A.A short form meditation on journeysJan 24, 2022Jan 24, 2022
InThank You NotesbyE. Katherine KottarasOn Hearing of the Passing of Thich Nhat Hanh on the Day of Strong Winds in Los AngelesWith gratitudeJan 23, 20226Jan 23, 20226
InPrism & PenbyE. Katherine KottarasHer: I read your poem online. What’re you gay now?There’s a simple short answer. Yes, and always.Jan 23, 20225Jan 23, 20225
InFlint and SteelbyE. Katherine KottarasTo: The Heron in the Park Next to the River that is a Concrete Bed of Shorn Grass and LitterI wonder if you wonder.Jan 22, 20223Jan 22, 20223
InThank You NotesbyE. Katherine KottarasOur Return to the WorldOn not expecting the magical but finding it anywayJan 19, 20223Jan 19, 20223
InFlint and SteelbyE. Katherine KottarasHow I Write With My Whole BodyA prose poem in response to the question: “How do you write so much?”Jan 17, 20225Jan 17, 20225
E. Katherine KottarasThe Fig Tree Never BlossomsA haiku chain set along the L.A. RiverJan 18, 20223Jan 18, 20223
InPaper PoetrybyE. Katherine KottarasNow Only NasturtiumA poem for what is rather than what might have beenJan 10, 20223Jan 10, 20223
InThank You NotesbyE. Katherine KottarasMama Hummingbird LandingA poem of gratitude for the gift of a tiny nest outside my front doorJan 13, 20228Jan 13, 20228