For Kate, a fellow jewel lover…
On the beach, I used to find bits of glass so soft and rounded I didn’t believe they were glass. They were jewels. The blue ones were rare and expensive sapphires. Clear…
When we fall in love, it feels singular, like we have discovered an unknown island in the vast Pacific Ocean. And it is. Sort of. And then the couple has to traverse the mundane routes of their lives and rekindle…
Years ago, I sponsored a Vietnamese refugee to this country. This prose poem is a snapshot of our first night together.
SAME SAME BUT DIFFERENT
Her full name is Ho Tuyet Mai. It means ‘Falling Snow.” I didn’t know it…
I think this poem happened on retreat at Kindling Words West. We were sitting around talking about the first trees that we climbed.
My first was a Maple
At the corner of Dickinson Place and Woodland Road
Family. I wrote this poem when I was estranged from one of my sisters. We aren’t anymore. But the poem stands.
We don’t speak my sister and I
It is her birthday
Today will always be her birthday…
Jana Swec is a marvelous artist, painter and muralist. At a recent opening, I overheard her talk about her love affair with Payne’s Grey.
She fell in love with Payne’s Grey
For a whole year
A scene at the airport…
JUST IN CASE
“Just in Case. Take the umbrella.” Her mother stuffed the small red collapsible umbrella in the side pouch of her carry on and pushed her into the TSA security line. She didn’t…
A childhood memory.
We called it a seesaw
but it was a big plank
twelve feet long.
eight inches wide
four inches thick
At each end, the wood curved into seats
Underneath in the middle of the plank were…
I don’t know where this poem came from. Teaching? Writing? Frustration? Who knows? It’s here.
THE ARCHITECTURE OF STORY
We begin with a one-dimensional stick figure and a idea.
The idea towers in our mind.
Big. Big, Big.
In the musical GiGi, Maurice Chevalier and Hermoine Gingold sing a sweet duet called “I Remember It Well.” This poem is sparked by the notion that two memories, side by side, record events very differently.
I sat on the…
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A Tree grows in Sedona
Because we work by ourselves, writers and illustrators often feel alone. We aren’t but sometimes we need to be reminded of all the great resources around us. Here are a few that I rely on for classes, news and general good thinking: