Born to Run

Poets in the Marathon.
Yes, we were born to run.
Finishing slow, fast, weak and strong.
Yes, we were born to run.
Any way you can,
Yes, we were born to run.

As a Kid

Childhood was long ago,
Memories cherished dear,
A large, Polish/Catholic family
Suddenly, childhood is near.

Looking back on family life,
Hindsight seems so clear.
Traditions marked my childhood,
So much more than tears.


Ecosystem Assistance

Everyone does what they can.

At lease I hope that’s true.

Wouldn’t it be great if we had the technology

to reverse the effects of plastics in the environment?

Wouldn’t it be wonderful

If we could?

Of course,

It’s not enough

to take plastic out of the environment,

We have to stop putting it there!



Your muzzle grows white
Poor, old girl.
Affection starved
Hoping this time
Someone will have time
Someone will help with the stairs
Someone will brush me
And feed me
And walks me
And loves me.

Please Don’t Speak of Love

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
~ Love Song of Alfred Prufrock by TS Eliot
Please don’t speak of love
as isolated as can be.
How terribly lonely you sound to me!
Please don’t speak of love
endured and unrequited.
Please don’t speak of love
when the love song
has not been written.
Please don’t speak of love
with words carried across the sea.
Please don’t speak of love
until it is returned
to me.


Dear Dad,

I forgot to ask you 
- Parent to parent -
What was the point?
I don’t understand.
You were a hardworking and diligent person.
You found honor in providing for your family.
Why so mean? So unapproachable? 
So.... juvenile?
We weren’t in a competition, 
and I want you to know that.
I don’t know what kind of competition 
We could be in fairly.
But let me be perfectly clear.
You didn’t win.
I’m not sure why you didn’t know that.
I’m not sure why you were so sad,.
so bitter.
It doesn’t matter any more,
unless it does.
It is still a mystery to me
Even after all these years.
Maybe I’ll write again. 
Would you like that?
Or is it still painful to listen to 
your own daughter.
Let me know.

Dear Dad,

I hope this letter finds you at peace. I realize that you haven’t heard from me in a long time. In fact, I only realized a few days ago that you have been gone for thirty years now. Do you realize that’s in my life, you’ve been gone longer than you were here?

Do you see Duane? Or Denis? Or Karen? Or Sandy? Mom is fine, she takes good care of herself and is as fiercely independent as ever. It’ amazes me that she is 93 and is still taking care of herself, and Gery and Mike. Well, all of us really, one way or the other.

One day, I will tell people how terrible liver cancer is. I will tell people that you succumbed to cancer, but you were diseased long before the cancer took your life.

You will be happy to know that I no longer yell, It hurts more than it helps. I wish you taught me that, but I learned from the negative example. I learned to do the opposite.

My memories are faulty and unpleasant. I don’t really know if they are actual memories. I don’t remember. I never think of you anymore.

I’m sure I will see you so, or at least soon enough. Take care of yourself.





Where are you going,
in the patterns of chaos?
You seem to be fading,
in the bright flashes.
What do you see,
in the shadows of the light?
You seem to be searching, 
Looking to right.
What are you hearing,
in the pops and bangs?
Are there voices calling
that are solely for you?
You seem serious
Or startled and afraid.
The flashes continue, 
and alone you will stay.

Planning on the Go

You’ve done nothing!
You know how important this is 
to me, 
to us.
Yet nothing is done.
Don’t say anything!
Not to me.
I don’t want your 
Platitudes and hypocrisy.
I want schedules, reservations.
Dammit! I want itineraries.
People have driven for CENTURIES
Without GPS.
Well, at least close to a century
You won’t listen to the directions anyway.
You would think this would end badly, 
but this is us.
Every time,
Every year. 
We must have short memories
or long love.
Somehow, it works
When we’re together.


I look at the world
except it isn’t me 
and it isn’t the world
It is light
and space
and time
So there is some type of energy
I know there is.
And the energy brings
sound, and life.
Yes, the energy brings 
sound, and life.
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