That patch of earth I think I know so well where I garden mostly still and mostly silent In my stillness and my silence, I notice details hues of petals, bend of foliage, feel of damp, dark dirt Purple, green, and brown, I attend to with a focus while my little ones play games outside … More Relevant Realities
On the side porchby the holly bush,black ants traversedthe warm concrete They fascinated me,these little creatures busy withtheir close friends and family I was alone;the neighbor boyswere busy turning overrocks in the creek So, I sat by myselfwatching those antsknowing they weretotally unaware of my presence I was too large tofit into their scope I … More Scope
lavender laughter filled the carrolled down windows, April 1962singing with abandon“Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy”giggling, dad and daughterboth too old to be so sillyboth savoring flickers of youth Hear the silly song my dad and I loved: Mairzy Doats, Did anyone else have fun songs they sang on … More Mairzy Doats
Graphic courtesy of Pixabay
Little girl on bike peddles into a future path that she creates Photo courtesy of Pixabay
When I was eleven, I was sure I’d never stop dancing ballet I would grow up, move to New York and dance with the ABT what I didn’t know then was those were the days the good ole days when I’d never eat a tomato but Never is such a limitation it leaves out serendipity … More Never
When I was a child I wrote like a child In cursive Now I’m a poet I write like a poet In ideas In patterns In rhythms No fences No syntax I’ll never get an A in writing When valued by perfect formation, Adherence to rules So maybe I’ll write in pink Half cursive, half … More Biblical Playgerism
We made butterfly wings From pink cellophane Glued them to hair clips You never wore But we laughed as we worked Probably ate some ice cream For years I opened drawers Saw a butterfly barrette And laughed again Image from LoveKid Trading Company site
In celebration of International Women’s Day My mother’s hands held me My mother’s hands washed my hair My mother’s hands sewed my cotton shifts and later my wedding dress In a big yellow bowl her hands kneaded together bread and onions sage and broth to make huge batches of cornbread dressing for our Sunday feast … More Mother’s Hands
Snowy tissue kisses of Candy Apple or Summer Rose or So Marilyn Monroe littered Mamma’s purse as well as waste paper baskets and sometimes La Rose kisses adorned my little girl cheek. Image by Pixabay
Wind Rush 