Self portrait as a silhouette.   I forget my thumb in the fire But I do not forget the thrill. Every abstract’ biggest dream is To own life, so we let the bowl be  filled With sugar and cinnamon A grey fizz, like a thunderstorm…

Image Courtesy of Pixabay   Within a small white chapel, bathed in the soft, diffused light of forgiveness, a clandestine drama unfolds. A cloaked person, draped in robes of sanctity, stands before his prey, a vulnerable soul seeking solace within these hallowed walls. Your power…

Some of the best times Mom and I had as she aged were picking up our weekly groceries curbside and having hamburgers at Burger King. It started during Covid.   She uses a walker to get around now, and getting into and out of the…

In restaurants we discuss our plans for the week Always seeking these places to absorb mounds of tasty fat New health plans that satisfy our sense of self-obligation But nothing has changed in our lives not yet at least Though the real question is have…

Life occurs differently depending on the side of the realm your soul is on Birds venture between worlds in addition to their own Coming out of daydreams there is a blurry sense of purpose that stumbily enters inside my head air is earths devoted companion…

….and then she found an old traditional recipe by her foremothers, forwarding it to her future self…   Ingredients   1 cup of inner anguish, neatly chopped. A selection of treasured recollections from happier times. There are several pinches of silent ideas that want to…

Weight A family trip across the whole of the United States when I was six years old at one point in our journey brought us to an ancient pueblo, once subterranean but now open to the sky. It no longer had a name, nor a…

I’m not sure how I survived this state of being for so many years, especially as a developing young woman, drifting back and forth between the verge of sleep and being spoken at. I didn’t allow myself naps until college, and by then I was…

I never believed in ghosts. But now, I look out for them inhabiting old spaces, cold and dirty and ready to make me believe they exist. Maybe afterwards — when the haunting becomes commonplace — you will reach out to me and tell me it’s…

Running from the truth Always ready to take flight Vowing to look within Eternally grateful for second chances Never forgetting who I truly am