A sign of hope for a fresh start An indication of just how far I’ve fallen A little suggestion intended to be helpful The bottom of the barrel well and truly scraped A sidewalk discovery outside the café A small investment in an uncertain future…

Bringing in this one at the last minute… The illegible text tricks those who aren’t paying attention distracting them from the secret messages hidden in plain sight on the other side of the spread where truths burst forth from the page disguised as poetry Those…

As a girl, young, bordering on naïve, I had a tree swing. My stepfather climbed the backyard tree to tie the ropes with hands that were accustomed to being fists. Hour upon hour I sat in the swing listening to the ropes creak and the…

The green fields I see out the window always remind me of earlier travels It doesn’t matter that I have not seen them before I think the color is enough to spark the memory Farmlands punctuated by electrical towers always let me know where I…

The key to understanding Is knowledge of the buttons. Well, not exactly buttons. Touch the screen. Send a message. Words typed with feeling, (Mis)Read with suspicion. It’s how we stay connected. Oh no! Don’t call.

Maybe tomorrow birds will sing and flowers dance to the words of a god speaking light and truth, but today it’s dark –and raining.

For hour four, I applied the prompt to a poem I had already started a few minutes before. First, the finished poem: The dream is always the same Who told bigger lies? I know, it wasn’t a contest but I’m always looking for that edge…

There is no profound in a three-minute pop song unless it is playing when everything goes wrong Nothing makes memories quite like emotion the music is but illustration it’s just that the words hit you in the same place as your feelings The catalogue may…

Nostalgia can be such a beautiful waste of time when you think back on the small, unimportant things Past glories fade into nothingness Past defeats still sting though perhaps not as much The ritual of buying a can of coffee from the vending machine on…

You will step out onto the platform into the humid embrace of the summer afternoon You will melt as you melt into the crowd of which you are a part but from which you are completely apart The streets of Shibuya will suck you out…