I have journaled, kept a diary, put the pen to my brain, so to speak, since I was five years old. And I have that diary, still. My favorite entry being one where I expressed how seriously furious I was at my brother Bernie. It's like peeing. Sorry, but it was the first metaphor that... Continue Reading →
Near Misses, and Someday Posts I wasn't hurt in Detroit Race Riots of '67 even when we broke curfew . . . to have a happy parade I was not lost in the blizzard of '65 although I was lost to love in the blizzard of '78 No brakes, no fear. Bernie saved us in... Continue Reading →
The first winter storm rolled in yesterday. It rained all evening, and into the night. Storms like this warm the air a bit, and I slept with my window open, listening to the rain all night long. My high desert mountain life takes me, every day, away from the wet lake life I lived in... Continue Reading →
Has the world always been in overfire? Like my wood stove after I stoke it with well-seasoned cedar and pine, hefty logs on top of crisp sheaths of aspen kindling. I pile those atop a foundation of twigs that I obsessively collect from my yard throughout the year. The girls hated when I shouted 'pine... Continue Reading →
The girls were asked this question quite often by their once estranged father. And often, for someone who disappeared to the far corners of the earth, of depression, or both, and surfaced randomly every several months, I suppose, means a few times. And a few times, in the course of the years in which the... Continue Reading →
Pockets. The forest is replete with secrets, the pockets that protect them. Dark hollows full of mystery and intrigue hidden codes, stories. Veracities. Boo Radley gave them great fame. As did Perry Como. Falling stars and all. We love pockets (or is it the secrets)? To carry a surprise. A little bomb of the unknown.... Continue Reading →
I found this on Saturday morning up on the trail that hugs the west side of Mt. Elden. A path I have traveled dozens of times over the years. Suddenly, a swing hanging with tight knots on a sturdy branch of a Ponderosa tree. 'Well, don't mind if I do,' I said to Romeo, and... Continue Reading →
A quick text to a few girlfriends, and in your head you should hear this shouted like a college girl would holler: "Road Trip!" But it was "Apple Pies!" And, of course, this call was met with enthusiastic response, the date was set, and I couldn't wait to crank up my apple peeler corer. But... Continue Reading →
When They Go I take back my house missing and pushing the girls out at once – go! give me space, stay! I need your sweet and smart and beautiful there is no one on the roof no one in my car no one sleeping in my bed or on my couch or spare bedroom,... Continue Reading →
When thousands upon thousands of citizens come together to celebrate the loved ones they have lost, traditional Mexican culture, the American version of traditional Mexican culture, Tucson, Arizona's version of traditional Mexican/American culture, or just get out and dress up, party, and parade because it is fun, and it is peaceful and loving and beautiful,... Continue Reading →
pocket poet 