Tiffany Dorbin
"Re-examine all that you
have been told, dismiss that
which insults your soul."
Walt Whitman
WELCOME TO
MY WORLD
Hi! Thank you for checking out my site! I'm Tiffany. I live in Kalamazoo, Michigan. There is nothing like the seasons in Michigan. My stories are often set during the changing of the seasons here. To me, this represents changes in everything, not just the temperature and the colors of the leaves. It is always time for change and new beginnings. I am a big believer in "living a little every day" and personal growth just as often. I spend a lot of time in the woods and in bogs. I have five amazing children who love to pick wild berries in the summer and build snowmen in the winter. We go on adventures and run around fields and discover all we can about our wonderful wilderness! Nature is beautiful and we try to incorporate it into our lifestyle and I always try to include it in my books.
A FAVORITE POEM OF MINE FROM 2014
"Night Shift"
by John Withee
A black butterfly
with white-tipped wings
keeps me company...
in the swealtering garage,
a hot July thunderstorm
is making love to everything
with a hazy blue heart
and shaping the streets
like an amature musician.
There are two lightbulbs
and two ashtrays
and two boxes of crayons.
After years of this,
you appreciate it differently,
like a call from a landline
dashing through the storm
to two years ago today,
to yourself two years ago
in a storm with the same
two of everything:
"Hello," you say,
"I'm wiser now, seasoned,
peaceful, bones of rock
and a heart of quilts."
"Tell me about the getaway car,"
your younger self phones back.
"Ain't happened yet," you reply.
Your younger self
emits a disappointed silence,
static like the buzzing
of muted television in a dark room.
"I'm happy," you say.
"You have no idea what its like."
Your younger self is impatient.
"What's the plan?"
and you say, "I've got some ideas,
but I need some of yours.
call up seven-years old
counting two-hundred rings
in the forest,
get him on the line,
and twenty-one years
sleeping on the grounded mattress
at the house with paint-peels,
and get nineteen-years
broke and heartbroke
and twenty-four hours from the train,
and let's put our heads together,
we'll wait for a minute,
until this time next year,
wait for the phone call.