Sunday, May 29, 2016



I don’t mean
what you think I mean.
You thought I meant it,
before I said it. 

Saturday, May 28, 2016

On the Outside

Looking disinterested
But underneath the surface
Dancing the Irish reel

Friday, May 27, 2016



H ide away in some cubby hole or an
I dyllic refuge on the beach or a
D en in the mountains. Just get away
E veryday in some type of sanctuary
O r retreat. Your back porch rocker or
U se a closet for a lair or a blanket-covered
T able for a fort. Perhaps just close the door.
S ecret yourself away and listen to your heart.

Thursday, May 26, 2016



My friends and I found a hideout
along our country creek road,
a hollow in trees and tall grasses.

No one knew where we were
when we were tucked away
in that cozy spot, or so I thought

until a neighbor cut my hair.
She said, “Kids are always there.
I wonder what they’re up to.”

I didn’t say a word. 

Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Poetic Bloomings Dawn


R esplendent birth of morning sun
A nd appearing now in shining light
D azzling diamonds in the dew
I n my backyard, not just a few
A brilliant display of common weeds
N ew dandelions spreading seeds
T hen they dull as sun proceeds

Tuesday, May 24, 2016



D istracted and wandering in the
O zone, not caring about what’s going
O n, watching lines, curls, boxes,
D aisies pouring from my fingertips
L etting whoever drone on and on,
E ventually it will end and I can go. 

Monday, May 23, 2016



A striped afghan
covers my living room chair,
pinks, browns, and yellows.
I remember when

my sister crocheted it.
Shortly after, she at 22, I at 19
settled in Lincoln, Nebraska,
a thousand miles away from home.

Years later, I told her I wanted
 her to will me her afghan
since it reminded me
of that phase of life.

The next Christmas
I received the afghan in a box,
along with a note,
“I plan to live longer than you.”

Thanks a lot, Sis.