Dear 1986 Self, I was once told I had a bright future, But I never bought the shades or learned to read the map, so losing my way has been the least of my worries. Though your effort noble, the dissipation of faith in (of…

The girl in the apartment upstairs vacuumed every day — the burr and clatter of the building’s Hoover racketing across wood floor, linoleum, bumping baseboards — the thump of wheels running over the sill between rooms — the motor hum and vibration — that was…

Five years, light and laughter fill my eyes. Airy and breathy, like feathers floating upon the wind. Hope swells like cresting ocean waves and dreams rise higher than the desert mountain tops of memory. The stars and moon never out of reach for the innocent…

She’s Gone The pain inside my soul is painted and flavored by the emptiness I feel, thinking of the eternity of time I now must spend wandering alone toward the grave that awaits us all. There was a time, not so very long ago that…

This is not about the kitchen table The kitchen table never touches the floor, hangs from the wall like a shelf. The kitchen table where we ate so many dinners, its three sides and the three of us. The kitchen table where we read the…

When the moon rises high, like a celestial eye a voice rides upon the whipping wind, saying, “Let go, let go…change is coming. “Bend, bend…be like the wise Willow and not the stubborn Oak.” Before the witching hour, every heart and mind drifts to the…

Rain melts the twilight sky as cresting waves pound the shoreline. Wind lift me up, let me swim in the Milky Way – its raspberry sweetness on my tongue, as dreams pass this dreamer by. I caress the stars above, kiss the moon with tender lips,…

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 rain drops playing under Sun’s gaze They are laughing, They are cuddling. The sun refused to make them vapors again.   When rain pours In a bright a sunny afternoon, It seems like magic, Like nature sharing a secret, It tells me anything can…

For sale, black leather baby shoes, worn, cracked, aged. Twenty-five dollars, found in a tourist shop among patriotic towels, candles and soaps, all over-priced. Forgotten by the buyer, unknown by the feet which wore them so long ago. Where is the man whose mama carefully…