The eye doctor said with ease, expertise, and very little drama, "You have a bug in your eye. It's part of a wing, probably from a beetle." While he is an ophthalmologist, and not an entomologist, I doubted his diagnosis. Not about the foreign object, that was evident from several weeks of feeling exactly like... Continue Reading →
I decided at the beginning of 2017 that I would finally make the move I had been talking about making since I became an empty-nester. I would leave Flagstaff. Find a smaller newer home. Go on a residential adventure, so to speak. That was five years ago. The plan moved from the back and then... Continue Reading →
With all that is going on in the world, thousands upon thousands slammed by earthquakes and volcanoes; forest fires and hurricanes; flooding and tornadoes, and literally slammed, the loss of my cat seems so minimal. My tears seem irrelevant. Each time I call her or miss or or feel the tug of her absence, I... Continue Reading →
for Riana Peach sky, and blueberry pie. My baby's birthday, she's twenty-five. A quarter century, and from that moment of birth I loved rocking her, now she's rockin' the earth. Feisty and tender, a complete painter's palette. Keen on her limits, but, oh, give her a challenge! An artist, a scientist, smart as a whip... Continue Reading →
for Susan Tweit It is September 15. The sun seems to have hit snooze more often than I did. It is particularly lazy today, and has, perhaps, hesitated at the tree line across the street for hours. Not too subtle a reminder, let me tell you, that days are getting shorter, and worse yet, there... Continue Reading →
Everything sings pink this morning where has August gone? Sunflowers light the sky long after sunset summer’s last song Autumn’s chill settles softly now across my pillow and chin September sits so patiently I’ll bring the heavy quilt in.
Be A Poet 1. Be a poet. Be that person who dreams at the bed’s edge. Be that light between night and dawn. Between the letters that pause. Sit below w’s stems. Be as quiet as dancing alone or be as loud as tomorrow. 2. Quiet days give way to summer's heat. And thunder. Roll... Continue Reading →
As we approach the fiftieth anniversary of the '67 Detroit Race Riots, I thought I would share a short story set in Detroit at that time. "This is the end, beautiful friendThis is the end, my only friend, the end."*(Jim Morrison) Perfect Sanctuary I stopped telling the truth to our parish priests in 1967, the... Continue Reading →
When I was pregnant with my girls, and not knowing they were girls, I hoped they would be. Girls. For one reason. I thought it would be easier to raise female feminists than to raise male feminists. That's my truth. Not proud. Just is. I wasn’t up to what I believed would be too difficult... 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 