Michelle Morris has been writing since she was seven years old. She never thought of writing as a choice or a luxury but instead as an imperative, a matter of survival. She began writing poetry when she started college at UC Berkeley as a way of articulating the intensity of her experience there. She wrote privately for the next seven years—poetry, short stories—and only recently began sharing her work at open mics in San Diego.

As a graduate of UC Berkeley in Comparative Literature, Michelle is grateful for her rich academic background—but her REAL learning began when she started teaching 2nd graders how to read as an Americorps tutor in Oakland. She continues to work with children (and receive artistic inspiration) as a substitute teacher for grades K-12. Her current plans include devoting more time to writing, developing as a musician and vocalist, and planting a vegetable garden. She is grateful to have stumbled upon the rich and fertile landscape of the San Diego poetry/arts scene.



A Thousand Shiny Pearls

To be loved on a Sunday afternoon. Wouldn’t it be splendid? Rocking back and forth on the hanging porch chair, dandelion dust blowing around, the animals hushed and happy. To be loved on a warm day, while the birds are singing, calling to you.
Isn’t that what everyone wants? A purple flower left in a glass of water, a raindrop falling just for you.
To be loved by a thousand pearls, rolling down a cool musty street in the old part of town. While everyone is busy reading the paper, you stand watching the delicate stampede roll past. Hundreds of shiny pearls set free, liberated from the grip of clenched shells. Hundreds of white round pearls rolling for your eyes, to bless your eyes on that old street, on that old sunny day. You stand quietly, reminded of your worth. And you feel loved because a thousand shiny pearls came running to greet you on a Sunday afternoon, in the old musty part of town.

By Michelle Morris