Welcome to The RavensPerch

first morning to wake in this home, alone too quiet turning on mozart my heart gently opens to your loss as the coffee brews I turn to see your bowls on the floor I tuck a few things away too-hard reminders I touch your paw print impression and feel your touch on mine...

what are the lessons I’m learning today gently listen to the voices in my life love speaks loudly and in myriad ways directly heart to heart time, even if it’s short is important to utilize to pour out our heart don’t hesitate to lean in to listen and to speak love...

The puzzle of her life has been shaken. Things don’t click so neatly. Those Ukrainian women on TV look too much like her. How they clutch their children. How they ride trains rushing into the unknown. How they huddle in disheveled subways. How they must learn to love...

Poets, Lift your pens, power your laptops. Let your verses catch and flare like wildfire. Now more than ever, we need your words to smolder like sagebrush. Dancers, Plant your feet, unleash your leap. Be the mudslide slamming, shifting, upending the home. Sweep us...

Grief wails like a freight train into the night,      waking forsaken dreams. Unwrap disappointment & find grief inside;      denial is one more disguise. Grief is the knock we ignore at the door,      that lurks when we turn off the light. Invite friends for...

Feelings seeped around the edges of things: the way you thanked me for the loan of an eraser, the way I said, “you’re welcome,” the intimacy of borrowing. The time I asked for your calculator and you found it for me under stacks of books, moving mountains; you handed...

I’m good at most things and keeping a plant alive, sustaining life, comes naturally, I thought. Plants can hang on for a long time, weeks; you don’t know that they suffer or how they suffer until one day it’s too late. It must have been the plant, something wrong, or...

Where stunted cacti punctuate fossilized ocean swells, tiny clinks ring out: granite and basalt shift under my footstep.

The elementary teacher complains to my principal, I’m not teaching enough grammar to her son, because his sentence structure is terrible. I tell her Brian has the best seat in the class. Front row, middle, four feet from where I usually stand. I pull out his file and...