My dear, dead phone: Never have I meant ducks, Nor birches, Not shed. But I always praise to decide if I should keep “I live you.” It is the more accurate, but too raw.

Starstruck    My role: member of Conrad Birdie fan club running across stage shouting He’s over there! Freshman year, extra in Bye Bye Birdie. Brownie camera strapped around my neck, I commanded the stage for one minute, three words, some thirty yards, enough excitement to…

Once in a blue moon, I take out an old picture of myself just to check how many wrinkles I’ve added since I crossed happy days Once in a blue moon, I try to recollect just what you whispered into my ears as we made…

If there is any holy book so close to embodying poetry, it is the Book of Kells, that sacred collection of the four Gospels, at least those agreed on by Mother Church, who is not my mother, its God not my God. The Book, though,…

At this tip of pen The sun sets, and my words fade Against empty page.

Puppy-Butt and Kitty-Butt talk Often on the phone But Puppy-Butt Is fading fast Living all alone So Kitty-Butt Reads poetry In an even tone Puppy-Butt will Soon just ashes be With some bits of bone Then Kitty-Butt’ll Toss her happily Where she’ll no more moan

A Baldy’s Notion   I haven’t a baldy’s notion   A famous Irish saying Meaning no idea   Bald men must have some notion Annoying for sure Likely my bald head will perceive me Don’t judge us as fools though You’ll be the one left…

a year of waiting – she hugs her mom under the cherry tree (Cristy Watson, 2021)

Outside, it’s 91 degrees, which reminds me of the time I felt lost but wasn’t. I was at the movie theatre in Spokane, River Park Square, waiting for my sister. We would see a movie together and then eat chicken sauté with peanut sauce afterward…

My thoughts are getting slower My eyelids closing lower My brain is loosing it’s ability to think I feel like I might just sleep if I so much as blink   Lying on a warm bed while writing this was a mistake But a risk…