The corners of my mouth lift slightly, long before my eyes sense the dance of daybreak. Sweet voices on my windowsill. Younger ones reply, eagerly awaiting something squirmy Ground beans releasing their nutty aroma Hiss and gurgle into the pot beneath Bacon spitting at potatoes…

24 poems, “The Dinner Party” Dinner Day: Prelude to the Guests   Gladly, the pie has set and the soups are sleeping and the exotic spices are temporarily sleeping   first the canapes in their moody forethought Then the tagine a wonderful display, I thought…

Amicable Aliens landed and were disgusted by what they saw. Violence. Cruelty. Pollution. And decided to take charge. Immediately. Zap! Anyone committing a violent act had to learn 100 happy words and use them repeatedly. If they couldn’t do that they were sent to Rancor…

writing days   robins’ trilling calls me into consciousness, singing faint, slotted light – pale infusion behind the dark. warmth against my skin on sturdy sheets protect me from cold ridges of hardwood waiting for my warm, soft feet on the way to colder, harder…

I put two more fat balls in the feeder, he says. Did I say you could? I laugh. Nope, he says, but I did anyway. Now we both laugh. Inspector Jacques Clouseau here in my writing room had already sussed it out. Chaffinches were on sentry duty…

poetry. *yells in anguish* that is all.

Prompt 6, Hour 6 Misty morning waking Transcending gardened dawn. Hill breezes lift to spirit mountain. Weaving words into a sail. Rafting on a perfect read. Down a river, crystal clear.   Blowing me to leeward shores. Little birds tweet on a limb. Wisteria petals hang…

I put your hands around my neck and waited for you to squeeze and when you did, I was the scared one. I waited for you to catch on fire like i did for you but i knew you were water. you turned into steam…

Minutes…hours…days… months…. years…. since your lips brushed mine splitting open the night since your hand slid over rounded hips, eased open moist thighs since your fingers reached for the center of everything splintering starlight… splashing joy on my soul

soft fur against my bare legs, barbed tongue cleans my calf sheets pulled back, robe slipped on quiet breathing the whistle of water, spring of a toaster, sizzle of eggs, lemon, honey, caffeine, turn of a newspaper writer’s almanac, daily poems, the scratch of a…