In My America

Underneath the Cottonwood Tree In My America Autumn Wins In my America only the seasonsrun for office, and they always winwith campaigns as honestas snowflakes, as sharp aslightning, clean as a mama loon’scall, each heart-rendering notea sincere promise sure to be keptas colorful as laying beneatha Cottonwood in Octoberall complication naked, abandoned,just a couple twigs... Continue Reading →

60 in 2020: The Backwards Bucket List

1-20-20 I cannot escape who I am, or forget -- Patti Griffin A best friend of mine completed 60 never-done-before things the year she turned 60. It was a pretty cool celebration. She didn't do 60 amazing bucket list things like climbing mountain peaks or deep sea diving or forging raging rivers. Instead, she ordered... Continue Reading →

Let’s Begin this Day, Shall We?

Let's Begin this Day Oh, the existential crisis of it all. Am I odd in my daily questioning of purpose? The history and plight of our existence? The why's and wherefore's of this reflection I observe? This being? The physical. And the verb. To be. Shakespeare offered an option. Or not. To be, that is.... Continue Reading →


Splitting Funny how planning a wedding, a celebration of love, leads to conversations about divorce. What? It's true. On gorgeous, sunny days do we talk about the vicious rainstorm that ruined last weekend's picnic? Well, I guess sometimes we do. We are creatures, on good days, who think about the whole picture. The bigger picture. The... Continue Reading →

Surviving at 103 – Degrees that is, Farenheit

Or Rules for Cools How could I have forgotten about this? This thing? This heat? As in living in it. As in the bulk of my waking hours, and some of my sleeping hours, being focused on it? Actually, focused on staying cool. Avoiding sweat. How can sweat surprise me? Perhaps I did not remember... Continue Reading →

Could Be

April Poetry Month. Poem A Day. Challenge. No. 27 Could Be Just Another Lazy Morning in April Could be just another day in the life of the patient blue black bird his weight pulls down the pine bow he waves at me outside my window Could be just another climb for the eager red spider... Continue Reading →

Spring Is

Poetry Month, Poem A Day, No. 16 Spring Is Butterflies as big as my hand Lilacs enough for the neighborhood Yellow sheets twisted around the clothesline Horny cormorants showing off at the lagoon A brass fish hook wedged in between paw pads Four skinny calves following mum across the pasture Waking up early to light... Continue Reading →

A Threefer*

Poetry Month, Poem A Day, Nos. 13, 14, 15 Mockingbird Noisy old girl alone with your songs sitting in a rocking chair on a starry night whistling on a branch jabbering like an old girlfriend carrying on and on in conversations nobody really listens to you maybe the moon or me staying up past my... Continue Reading →

I Don’t Believe in Much

Poetry Month, Poem A Day, No. 10 I Don't Believe in Much I don’t believe in much of anything religious I’m like clay that way waiting for the right hand to shape a story from the mound of possibilities one where I can see the sense of it from each angle from above and below... Continue Reading →

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