June 4, 2020
Sounds almost like it can be earned,
like I did something – deserved.
So seductive, this fallacy.
Then I don’t have to feel badly.
Then I don’t have to feel guilt for my advantage.
Then I don’t have to change my leverage.
How do I set it down,...
May 22, 2020
My refrigerator is full,
my cupboards far from bare.
Is that enough?
I have sheets for my bed,
a pillow for my head.
I have meaningful work to occupy my days,
a consistent income stream.
Surely, that is enough.
I have a partner, dog, writing pen;
car, family, and...
April 10, 2020
Crimson splatters on white robes,
protein and plasma: essence of life,
thick with the stench of death.
Violence touches his skin, his face.
Not washing away the pain,
he is stained.
he looks for invisible grace –
a shaft of mercy
April 9, 2020
Red, newborn fists
hold together crumpled buds
at the ends of patient tree limbs.
they will relax open
into smooth, emerald filament.
The buttery daffodil
rises from winter rest, head still bent -
soon to be lifted and alive.
Coaxed by gentle light,
the natural world...
December 16, 2019
I heard David Whyte read his poems seven years ago
and again recently.
Now, as then, he spoke of his dear friend
and fellow poet, John O’Donohue, long since dead.
Deep missing was evident in David’s stories;
I could feel it in between the lines of his verse.
August 9, 2019
Today is the day.
Today is the day
you bury your husband -
the love of your days,...
May 24, 2019
Thoughts of you float forward
sitting in stillness
walking in silence
laying in darkness....
December 16, 2018
Everywhere I look
dancing as one:
Even streams of golden light and
Rolling river waves;
Improvising wind, unable to keep a constant beat and
Steadily swaying blades of grass;
Measured tree branches conservative in their movement and
Dashing birds, alig...
April 26, 2018