I wrote this--as I often do--with my Thursday night writing group. Prompts included: I have waited too long, ferocious food, what was the house like, Agnes and her pike, why wouldn't I want an Italian cavalry sword, diagnosis, immediately largest (which I changed to largess). Another challenge was to weave a color throughout the piece--and … Continue reading Too Late
Hello, dear readers. How are you? I am fine. Well, kinda fine. I am emerging slowly, as many of us are, attending to things that have been put off too long—dental appointments, household repairs, long overdue purchases, wellness exams for my cats. Stuff like that. I want to get out, but it’s scary too. I’m fully vaccinated, my health risk is … Continue reading Sheltering-in-Place: final edition?
Written with my Thursday night writing group with the prompts: empty journal, her lips tasted like wine, no one ever noticed her, she was just there, 16 years gone to hell, I have good memories of that house, there’s nothing quite like, until the sun smiles, write me a litter and tell me about It, complicated … Continue reading In the Wine Garden
Another original poem for National Poetry Month! This week's offering is a tale of my California childhood, back when the rain was plentiful enough that we'd often watch the winter river rising against the side of the levee. Life on the Flood Plain Nestled in the south elbow of the levee we are sheltered … Continue reading Life on the Flood Plain
April is National Poetry Month! I've dug down deep for this one, written for my Mom at least 30 years ago when she was the age that I am now. For My Mother and Other Collectors of Strays I want you to contradict me. When I shiver in my cavernous apartment complaining that autumn … Continue reading For My Mother and Other Collectors of Strays
I think I can say without fear of contradiction that this has been a weird year. And hey!--suddenly, it's Easter again. It feels rather surreal. Like many people, I have done very little to celebrate holidays during the pandemic. That's okay; I'm all for downsizing the fuss and nonsense and commercialization. Truth be told, I … Continue reading Easter Greetings/Pandemic Edition
i Blades not sharp or brutal but tender and yielding to the weight of my bare feet sprout on this thin layer of soil that hugs the Donegal coast. I grasp a clump of green shoots in my fist: does that make it mine or does it belong to a middle-aged man with a piece … Continue reading Immigrant
St. Jude showed up at my door today with a little package tightly wrapped in pale blue paper, adorned with a large clump of curled white ribbon (he’d obviously had it wrapped at the store.) I was surprised to see him; I was unaware he made house calls. It seemed impolite not to invite … Continue reading Goose Girl
Alive in the Moment Written with my Thursday night group with the prompts: urge to be alive in the moment, sound of waves lapping around the house, whipping like an energetic tornado, longing for a perfect moment to move you, manage, strolling, pollen, cheat, skins, lines, big giant plane, tired of hearing Dad’s stories, Tower of … Continue reading Alive in the Moment
Anderson Cooper came by my house to repair the busted slats on my back fence and to tell me I use too many ellipses in my writing. I told him I use ellipses because I like them!— but I told him not in a “I’ll do what I want” kind of way. I told … Continue reading Dot Dot Dot
