Author: admin

Times of hardship, when life is far from unknown, I rush back to black. I seek out Amy, my comforting belle. Hearing her voice calms me, with a bourbon in hand, I can breathe again. I don’t know why. Brightness always...

There’s nothing like having a tail wagging, bouncy little dog come up to me on the street, put its legs up on mine and look at me with an adorable, trusting face. And if it could speak, I’d hear it say, “Hi there! I can tell...

Neither of my parents were crazy, mean, or bad people but if I had to do it over again, I likely wouldn’t choose either of them. I’d want a more patient, accessible, understanding father, who supported me— was less critical, and...

Stopping in front a hair salon that was owned by a woman I had met at a party around forty years ago, and asked for her phone number— who responded, “Sorry, I have a boyfriend!”— I looked in through the window to see if I could...

if you need someone to talk to today talk to me if you’re grieving and the body-blow of loss has flattened the air from your lungs talk to me if you’re confused and seeking clarity from indecision talk to me if your heart is...

last night turning in after a very full day I tried to identify this new feeling it seemed familiar yet unique like a childhood sleepover mixed with the start of something exciting tinged with sadness of patina-ed grief, loss...

with the sun on my skin and my thoughts in the clouds I round the bend shifting my gaze to the surface I fall in your serenity seamlessly gliding across only gentle ripples in your wake mesmerized transfixed besotted time...

I want the sun to come out. I want world peace. I want my father. I am pouring another cup of coffee. The sun may come out this afternoon. Given the nature of human beings, we will never have world peace. My father is dead,...

What’s all this fuss about death? The common octopus lives only a year or less, and nonetheless, the neurons in her eight legs can sense all she needs for success. Discuss.

Here in the Southern Ocean where waves of the Atlantic and Pacific crash, a great albatross circles and circles with its twelve-foot wingspan. This woman who won’t believe in immortal souls discovers she’s willing to believe...

Today the sky is writing a poem about blue. Today the mountain is writing a poem about white. Today the lawn is writing its poem about green and yellow and pink and turquoise and lavender as toddlers toddle over grass hunting...