We emerge in silence Continuing to grow as we trail on foot over dug graves by others who say they loved us this new version of life after death has me pray over the bones of my ancestors who guide me in darkness to light….

  In that dark night, without any fear factor A woman sits before a dancing place of crackling fire, She holds a glowing orb in a nighttime, quiet space. The world, deeply silent, untold secrets, Every star revealed under the starry curtains Complex dark magic…

(or, The Menagerie pt. 2)   My early memories are few and far between but I remember being tiny and excited to gawk snakes and bugs and other critters some lady brought to my pre-K class to teach us about animals. I think there was…

Soft breeze plays gently with my hair. I close my eyes and imagine your hands brushing through the strands. The rustling of leaves in the wind whisper faintly, a reminder of your low melodic voice in my ear, breath tickling my neck. The sun behind…

I almost forgot But when I think about you I always remember You’re on the tip of my tongue Then the light goes on And you’re there With laughter and sincerity Life is a commodity But this life is a rarity The ever after is…

Soft touch of sunshine Rains on my face, glow of gentle red behind closed eyes, drowsing against glass.

Prompt 7 – Viator Poem   Why do I write   Why do I write, to tell our words stories , memories, our keepsakes.   Sometimes I get asked Why do I write, because I like to is the simplest answer.   Words are important…

Open the window to a world dressed up. I’ll wear my skirt and my hair up high You’ll wear cologne and a red bow tie. We friends gather in the streets tonight, just we were last night, just as we’ll be tomorrow. Kisses to our…

The world is a noisy place But not just with sound Light too is noisy flashing, flickering, neon and bright beeps, buzzing, chitter and chatter blah, blah, blah Phone screens are noise Social media is noise TV screens are noise sound bars are noise louder…

Spirited away, your swamps’ moody ghost somehow he returned to you. Your newly found creature, nearly forgotten, and then you remember somehow, he was your son.   He was a child, unable to speak, when he was spirited away, your swamps’ moody ghost, just as…