My Away Space

I would crawl into it
to get away from the world
all its noises and lights

I’d pull the door shut
tight behind me
slide the clothes aside

bury myself behind them
tucked into the dark
my breathing slowing

sometimes I’d hear
my mother come calling
hear her walk into the room

I stayed still and quiet
holding my breath
until she left

then I would exhale
unfurl myself and return
as though I had never been away

[Prompt Twelve: closet]

the toothpick
laid into the jar
ant rescued

[Prompt Eleven: pick an ordinary object and make it extraordinary. You can do it by giving it some special attributes or a different background and story.]

What is Love in a Nutshell

It’s tiny
cramped in there
always worried
day after day
that the squirrels
will choose you
of the hundreds

It’s waiting through
seasons of cold and
snow and ice and thaw
until you find a way
to reach downward
into the earth
and then upward
toward the sun

That’s love in a nutshell

[Prompt Ten: what is love – as title]

Word Poem

“Blue Bayou” crackled over the worn speakers
haphazardly hung from the bar ceiling
where one lightbulb seemed to flicker in time

Michelle sauntered in
jacket shoulder pads jutting
with each stride
she elbows through the crowd

“Well,” she steams
as we all tremor
“That bolt bucket car of mine
is through!”

She slides into the booth
as we make room and order
Greek gyros all around
but for Michelle, hold the beet

[Prompt Nine]


Time only moves forward
transitions happening
from one breath to the next
I inhale

Deciding to move along
whom to leave in my wake
I can’t help the weight of you
I exhale

[Prompt Eight: response to Sylvan Esso, “Funeral Singers”]
I love this song! It brought tears to my eyes. I was struck by the line, “What will I do without the weight of you?” which I borrowed from in my poem.

Our Time

every morning I rise in darkness
fumble my way down the hall
trying to keep the house asleep

even with daylight saving time
every morning I rise in darkness
it has become my secret friend

we share a cup of tea
meditate, write, draw – our time
every morning I rise in dakrkess

[Prompt Seven: viator poem]

Flat Earth

peek over the edge
all eternity dancing
cosmic dust bunnies

[Prompt Six: The earth is actually flat, you look over the edge and what do you see?]

Doesn’t Matter Whodunnit

He was bent over her body
I couldn’t quite see from
my vantage point
looking out the window

He held – I’m not sure what –
in his hand
stooping down I saw
him reach toward her head

she bristled
pulled back
then slumped forward
he stood watching over her

I knew I could make the call
and I know this sounds bad
but there’s only so many times
I want to get involved

still, he looked so concerned
I sighed, slowly stood
made the call
then went to go find a box

[Prompt Five: Write a mystery poem. The crime could be real or imagined. The poem could be clue based or narrative.]

It Goes Without Saying

I was 38
He was 49
It seemed we knew
what we were doing

(he’d done it once before)

no one does
not fully anyway
how could anyone

predict the turbulence
the fraught years
filled with family drama

age doesn’t matter
commitment does
self doesn’t matter
other does

it has taken a lifetime
to understand what I wish
I’d known sooner
but there are

no I do overs

[Prompt Four: write a poem about the topic of marriage, without ever using the word marriage, and while also ideally avoiding the words spouse, husband, and wife.]


what else would be
at the center
of the circle
but what
I see

[Prompt 3 – I do not understand the text prompt at all. Went with the photo.]

1 2 3 8