by Lorinda Boyer | Aug 7, 2026 | Poem, Substack
Before my parents, before my church, before the world told me otherwise, I believed I was me. I believed in me. Before gender roles, before diets, before my body became a problem to solve, I grew at my own pace reaching, unfolding, becoming. My heart knew where it... 
by Lorinda Boyer | Apr 29, 2026 | Poem, Substack
For today, I’m thinking about how often cruelty gets mistaken for power. Hate is loud, organized, shameless. It takes up space without apology. Kindness, meanwhile, is too often framed as small, private, delicate—a courtesy extended when convenient. I don’t believe... 
by Lorinda Boyer | Feb 19, 2026 | Poem, Substack
Some days a poem doesn’t come from quiet reflection, it comes from a pulse under the skin. Today feels like that. After sitting inside the world of The Handmaid’s Tale (we watched all six seasons in a couple weeks!), after watching what happens when women’s bodies and... 
by Lorinda Boyer | Jan 19, 2026 | Guest Author/Poet, Poem, Substack
This piece was written by my niece, Abigail.She wrote it in the quiet space grief leaves behind—the place where absence becomes a chair no one else sits in, where love keeps showing up even when a person can’t. I’m sharing her words with her permission, exactly as she... 
by Lorinda Boyer | Dec 29, 2025 | Poem, Substack
Sometimes the world gets quiet right before it tells the truth.This isn’t a story about failure; it’s a story about how close any of us can be to falling through the cracks.If you’ve ever wondered what bridges into homelessness look like, not in statistics but in... 
by Lorinda Boyer | Dec 25, 2025 | Poem, Substack
I dream a midwinter night’s dream Of hot cocoa topped with whipped cream And a pine tree embellished head to toe With ornaments from today and long ago I imagine windows framed with lights softly glowing Of a mantle with knit stockings hung near overflowing I...
