Slowly rising, steaming coffee wends into cool morning air, sourdough toast crisping with sweet mellow butter melting cold feet on a warm floor, and slow big band sways.

41 Years Later How can it be that our high school graduation was 41 years ago? 492 calendar pages flipped and slipped through our fingers, slick with holidays and birthdays, anniversaries, funerals, births. So many changes in 14,965 days. At times, it seems so long…

his uniform was the color of gumboots as long as gumboots are green this forest ranger was in a predicament   as the red spread redder and wider across his shirt and his insides protruded like sourdough the storefront of his glasses clouded over  …

When my shadow broke from me, cast out, misshapen, I prayed for a mold to make me right, placed faith in an average that could dull such extremes, a chameleon’s tone concealing everything unique. There was a moment in the car when we were driving…

dad would make sourdough bread twice a week and I’d always beg for the hardened ends crispy, still steaming warm melting anything spread on top, and I’d always eat it plain to savor the cloud of taste left by the crust nowadays dad does not…

Instead of skyscrapers. I would rather see small storefronts where they know you. Clouds shining as darkness settles. Forest rangers come and go trying to get supplies before another hard night. Trying to find things in the dark is like a single needle in a…

You could barely tell that the periwinkle blue sky was dotted with clouds as the sun started to rise when the Forest Ranger stepped his gumboots past the storefront of Cottage Teas. This wasn’t his normal beat, yet the aroma of baking sourdough lured him…

I open my hand Allowing the world to spill out Onto the ground In shards of brokenness And heartache Bitterness And self-deprecating antics- Some say there’s always hope But some things aren’t worth hoping for So,I carry on. I open the other hand And welcome…

Healing colours   An explosion of yellow and orange helps to get rid of the darkest depression. And if we add green, the colour of love and blue, the colour of the sky, we will get the perfect healing portrait of nature!

The Roulette of Artistic Rendition   My passion spent upon the ruins of her unadorned flesh, Eyes willfully burning in the amber conflagration of utmost rage, Her body the yielding witness to my emotionless onslaught, Her destruction of that which I deemed innocent, fueling my…