Ice Fishing.

Most little girls don’t take their first ice fishing trip at age four, because most parents would never allow it.  My father, however, had no problem dragging his would-be-ballerina out onto the polar ice caps, with only snow pants and purple flowered mittens to protect me from the elements. Our three trips to rural Pennsylvania every year were a treat, but the thought having to sit out in the cold and wait for some fish to bite on a worm made me wish we had stayed home in Baltimore. The only bright side was the dusty-rose-pink fishing pole that Dad had gotten engraved with my name, “RACHEL”, in all capital letters right above the reel.   

A Pansy for Your Thoughts

A free-form poem that explores Ophelia’s madness in Shakespeare’s Hamlet, and makes some guesses as to what drove her to her downfall.  Written at Northeastern University in 2010, revised in 2011 for the Greater Boston Intercollegiate Poetry Festival. I read this at my first ever poetry reading last week :)