"Worrying is praying for what you don't want."  This quote and the tornadoes in Dallas this afternoon, trying to get a hold of friends and imagining what they might be feeling as the roaring passes so near, gave birth to a poem.

It is this thing that, when allowed… Read full post »

What does it feel like after you win the Olympics,
drink champagne carried aloft on the arms of manic frenzy,
begin to inhale deeply again, then stretch your winning body
in an unfamiliar bed a thousand miles from home, still the same
flesh and blood who emerged from your mother so… Read full post »

In honor of redirecting words to clearly reflect
the unexplainable at times when grammar
gets in the way, when I wish only for shades of meaning
to wander through your mind, I commit to creating
a quantity of poems equal in number to the days
in my birth month (how fitting)… Read full post »

I don't even know why I'm crying except that I have to because something hurts so very much, something with a name that I cannot reach. I just turned off the porch lights so the neighbors might not see me out here crying. I know it's… Read full post »

It is what I would write when you're not looking
that I need to say, pressing through the still night air,
not whispers or wisps, but transparent shadows,
their voices the barely-wind, hawk's call, promise,
long low breath of flute song, a thing being crafted.
I never tell this story.

If you were here with us, you would smile at his soft voice, heart-shaped face, feathered blond hair just a bit long in a cool way, too-big little red sweatshirt sleeves crumpled at his wrists, with an ease I am lacking just now. Just now needing to not… Read full post »

Boys in the yard whittle sticks into arrows,
sun sliding down their backs, its westward march
a dusk-maker, cool-wind-shaker,
lifting unbrushed curls and auburn feathers
off the necks of children.

Mothers watch and don't watch, talk and fall silent,
laugh and change subjects between pauses
in a sing… Read full post »

My husband called to tell me he got our paper work in to the folks who are preparing our taxes. I was to gather only one bit of information about health insurance premiums, which I did. A few hours later, I shared the requested figures with… Read full post »

My music is life's distant din, out here alone after dusk;
traffic two streets east, a neighbor's screen door slamming loose,
the evening nothing settling warm and cool
like lace on my bare arm, in March. I made coffee,

strong after dark, daring, going to sip slow,
leave a cool… Read full post »

I braved running errands with both boys this afternoon. As we set out, I calmly told them I would not be answering requests or most questions, so would they please do their own thing and follow along peacefully. Between the warm, sunshiny weather, strong winds, that… Read full post »

It's not that I didn't believe, or maybe that is the case,
not believing. Then comes a day where it matters,
but not literally. A time when right now happens
whether I remember to look at the sky or not. I'm in it,
completely. A combination of factors unsorted I call… Read full post »

I'm sitting on the front porch being rebelliously imperfect.
Bird song, cool-warm sixty degree breeze, overcast-brilliant,
spring in winter. I don't know how to right-side just now,
so I won't. I'll close my eyes, listen to each avian call
I cannot name and picture nothing. I am beginning to remember… Read full post »

It's not one moment I can pull out
like a rabbit from a hat. African drums
beating sunlight between matters of necessity,
I'm alone in the smooth black truck I
haven't driven for weeks, hanging pandora
out the window like a charm all day.
An hour with nieces, family, laughter,
moonlight,… Read full post »

Upstairs, two boys play Lego/pretend/great amazing battle in their pajamas. Grandpa comes over to deliver a few thing for grandma. A grand whiny tantrum erupts above. Little brother has either had enough being bossed, or simply wants his way, and now! I ask my dad to… Read full post »

We pulled off at a small town in the cornfields and drove past the town to where farms sit wide apart. My mom needed to rest on the way home from treatment (a three and a half hour drive each way). When she first learned that cancer had returned, I offered… Read full post »

We're at the Cancer Treatment Centers of America with my mom.  Many of the people in the dining room wear scarves that frame faces that seem rounder than most. Humbled by disease, either as the sufferer, caregiver, or staff, there are no strangers.

A nod and a smile are given every… Read full post »

I dreamed an apology, one I gave to an old love
for treating him as an interesting pastime
rather than a human being.
He was the school boy again, not the heavyset father of three.
I was me today, wishing he would accept my words,
knowing he had no plan to… Read full post »

Day 10 – All I wanted to do was take a nap, wander into the bedroom, pull up the comforter and doze off. Not tired, just sleepy, in the land of being a woman once a month. I didn't nod off, but I did yawn a lot.

Regardless, I… Read full post »

1. Your main trait: I asked my mom, she said "One word? Always ready to help people. I don't know a single word for that." I asked my older son, he said, "Funny!" My mom just chimed in with, "I know, pure-hearted!" Then my older son said, "How… Read full post »

Day 9 – I tiptoed through a quiet house where everyone still slept at 10am when our friend came over to help with whatever we may need. She stayed until after 3pm, chopping vegetables for my mom, watching the boys while I went grocery shopping alone, played Legos with our… Read full post »

Day 8 – I went grocery shopping by myself this morning. A friend came over to help my mom with whatever she may need, and also around the house. After she helped me make a grocery list by simply carrying on an unrelated-to-food conversation while I… Read full post »

Day 7 – I've deleted three opening sentences, each the beginning thought of a highlight from yesterday. Now I'm paused, fingers hovering keyboard, waiting for inspiration on how to continue. The inner voice says to make a list.

• Snuggling under a fuzzy blanket most of the

… Read full post »