My first love

In the first grade

I met Dick and Jane

There were adventures to follow

When we looked and saw Spot run


I remember sounding out

The words that filled the pages

It was like I couldn’t get enough

And I wanted more


As education progressed

I learned more about words

The tenses of verbs and conjugation

The proper nouns of people and places


Then rules, grammar, and punctuation

Commas, semicolons, apostrophes

How they all worked together

And changed the context of words


There their and they’re

Were loves of mine

And I was only too excited

To assist when there was confusion


Ah- the power to convey, create, communicate

Exactly and precisely what you mean

Punctuate, to the point- period

Yes, I do love words



My branches reach out

My roots are grounded

But there is no more room


I am aching to stretch

To reach, to dance

But resolved, restricted, bound


Restless is the word

Constricted, non- growing, dying

Rocking, to break the pot



Close my eyes and concentrate

Concentrate on nothing

But my breathing


Really focus on my breathing

Is it too fast, too slow?

Does it seem shallow?


It flows in an out, rhythmic

Focus on the movement

It’s too fast, I hyperventilate


Meditation, I find

Is doing absolutely nothing

For my anxiety



It was early morning

Before the pink touched the sky

I quietly climbed the tree


It took a few minutes

With my gear strapped on

To settle and get my bearings


Perched high above the smaller trees

The brush and fallen branches

The forest floor


I wanted to drink some coffee

But I was scent free now

And making every attempt to stay that way


The deer would be moving soon

And I knew chances were slim

Of spotting one


But I had done my homework

Hiking and scouting

And watching for tracks


I sat there drinking hot water

Pretending that it contained caffeine

And waiting, watching, wishing


I heard a rustle nearby and froze

Willing myself not to breathe

The animal stopped, hesitated


After a moment he moved

Stepping into a clearing

Not far from my where I sat


I slowly raised my arms

Looking closely through the lens of my scope

He was perfect


It was then that I moved my finger

The action was in motion

And I couldn’t believe my luck


First time out

A trophy buck first thing in the morning

Best photo I ever took


The Screen Door

The screen door was standing in its place

Right there between the inside and out

Transparent for the most part


Standing in the kitchen

I could only see a portion of the porch

But also the wide expanse of the yard


There was an occasional breeze blowing through the screen

Making its way to the windows

Banking the far wall


The stillness when it was absent

Was warm and humid

Clinging to all of us in the old farm house


I knew that the screen was guarding us

From flies and biting pest

Who were waiting for prey in the dusk of evening


But I longed to breathe fresh air

So I swung it on its hinges

Letting it bang


The New Girl

All my life

I have been the new kid

The one searching desperately

For a niche


The girl

Who went into a classroom

Of “friends for years”

Knowing no one


The soul

Wanting only acceptance

The ease to be herself

Without judgment


Only acting

As she pleased without thought

Being comfortable when everyone laughed

Instead of questioning why


To live

And breathe and smile

Living in the moment

Being the best she could be


Without trying to play the role

Of someone on stage

Vying for attention

Wishing for someone to want to know her name


At A Loss

She asked what was wrong

When she saw that I was upset

And the tears were barely contained


I began to speak in a soft voice

Controlled, as I kept emotions at bay

Short, yet detailed answer


Hurt at the lack of expression of care

By friends at the passing of my grandma

When the group had done for others


She looked uncomfortable

Not one for warm and fuzzy

And then said- “Ok, now back to me.”


Be Kind- Rewind

Remember the days

When a night of movie viewing

Involved a trip to the local video store


There were VHS tapes

Lining the walls side by side

In different genres and themes


It was important to get there early

When this movement first began

And hope there was a VCR available to rent


When I think back to the excitement

Of an at home movie night

And a Popingo suitcase VCR


It still makes me smile

Remembering the stack of cassettes

With the bold stickers- Be kind, rewind.


In hopes of sunbathing

The summer sky

Has become gray

The sun is hiding behind the clouds


The trees waltz

To and fro

As the wind swells with zest


Humidity thickens

The clouds are heavy

The drops start slowly then dump


Thunder and lightening

Monopolize my senses

Hypnotized and enveloped


Self tanner


Sweater Weather

The evening has a crispness to it

After long days of sun and heat,

A coolness sneaks into the breeze

Adding socks to chilly feet.


The leaves on trees are slowly changing

Losing the color of dark rich green,

The grass has stopped incessant growing

The glass is lowered on the screen.


The early mornings start in briskness

Cooler commutes from here to there,

Mums are boasting brilliant hues

And car exhaust is seen in air.


The stadium lights are bright and warming

The pigskin tossed by young and old,

The welcome again of sweater weather

Before the winter blows in cold.