Charged My daughters have each accused me of this: Slut-shaming. I didn’t really know the term, but I knew exactly what they meant the minute they said it. And they were right. Proud I was embarrassed, and this was not a case of someone calling the kettle black. I raised these smart feminists, and they... Continue Reading →
Moments matter. That is my wisdom for the year. Call them Mackler Moments. Call this an Anne Marambling. It doesn't matter. But the moment, it matters. Love Found The moment the bride and groom become one. That moment, that one, when a binding smile enveloped each of us who was present to witness these nuptials.... Continue Reading →
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 →
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 →
Cardinal Directions Once upon a time, at a staff meeting, a colleague boasted (was it a boast?) that she didn’t know her directions. She rolled her eyes as if she was too busy to know such a thing, as if it was below her. I was struck by her pride in not knowing, and struck... Continue Reading →
Poetry Month - Poem a Day - No. 4 I wake up to animation and artwork and another year. Oh, and a cat licking my face and a dog’s leg across my ankle. He’d hug me if he could. I wake up wondering what on earth I will write about today. Only celebratory ideas swim... Continue Reading →
Skunked Sky as soft as a good night’s sleep pinks like pillows and dreams the ones you don’t need to remember. The air is absent and invisible no burn or chill, not a rustle no risk, just a river guarded by reeds and miles of possibility. The sun sets early here, slips behind the black... Continue Reading →
You bathe at the banks of the Verde River, Blue, you strike a deep note beside the muddy timber of green reeds that don't hide you when you leave. Those wings reach the edges of my curiosity and I am only brave enough to inquire of your disappearing shadow: "Why do I wait for next, Blue?... Continue Reading →
Throw Rugs Like insurance they seem to cover so little no matter how big or ornate they lay; dust bunnies hover about, forever waiting for cleaning rolling sweeping it under. They collect a bit of the day’s dirt or a boot’s drips, the remnants of a monsoon or blizzard soaked into an intricate Mexican print... Continue Reading →
pocket poet 