August 28, 2019

for Janey on her 47th birthday

“Lick, drink, suck,”

my big sis and I instructed the tequila novice

seated at the card playing table.

As sisters we lifted, tipped, and threw back

colorful shot glasses in unison,

sealing a bond that surpasses DNA.

In between hands dealt and cra...

August 23, 2019

I have never aspired to be 

a fireman

or an astronaut

or the president.

I have dreamed to wake up as

a Wild Flower.

A wild flower

with vibrant Poppy hues and Golden Rod’s unkempt leaves;

Bold as Black-Eyed Susan and independent as Meadow Sage;

Boasting the delicate, unpredictab...

April 17, 2019

Not chocolate or ice cream or meat,

not alcohol or cigarettes or cussing,

oh no,

none of these.

It seems I have given up sleep for Lent.

Or, at least it has given up on me.

The recipe used to be easily created:

lay on side, rest head on pillow,

close eyes, drift off.

I still fo...

January 17, 2019

Normally I reserve this blog for original poetry.  But today is different.  The poet of my heart, Mary Oliver, died today.  As a remembrance of her delicate, provocative, and powerful words, here is one of my favorite: Peonies.   (photo credit: Chandra Sherin...

November 10, 2018

I was young, younger than I even realized,

but so elated as my belly swelled,

as your wiggles made ripples on my abdomen.

I couldn’t wait for your arrival

but you indeed

required waiting.

Two weeks before your due date,

I greeted each day with great anticipation.

Perhaps today...

April 27, 2018

Today is the birthday

of Mother.

My thoughts wander

backward in time…

I am wrapped with her tenderness,

the smell of her love;

Reminded of her soft corners,

how easily my body cradled within hers.

Her abundance of care for me and my sisters,

we thought common.

Now I know the tru...

March 6, 2018

You blew in on the wind of an early spring

with a hint of new life in your step.

In a seamless motion we punctuated

an eight-year-old sentence.

And I realized your name must have been

written within me before I shattered

because I could feel

your embers linger in the remnants...

February 12, 2018

I think of my father as I cut

the orange flesh of the mango from its dark green skin.

Recently my husband introduced me

to fresh mangos and their intoxicating sweetness.

He showed me the Guatemalan way to eat them;

simply biting the fruit directly from the peel.

But I really...