True Prayer

As soon as the man is one with God, he will not beg. Ralph Waldo Emerson At St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, I fell to my knees my palms face down my forehead between them, and let my tears pool on the green-veined marble floor. My grey [...]

2020-09-24T21:27:00-07:00By |Poems|


The pen is shackled to a solitary tango, the length of a novel, on blank expectant paper. She dances on her nib to ward of boredom, undresses into unwritten folds of a paragraph intent to inspire the self-imposed narrowness of a writer trapped without a story. [...]

2020-09-24T21:32:39-07:00By |Poems|


Distressed picture frames empty of memories hang on walls empty of attention, in a house empty of family. There was a time when laughter bounced around rooms, sofas filled with bodies, arguments threw pillows, and beds now lie folded around grown reminders of the pace of time. [...]

2020-09-24T21:48:02-07:00By |Poems|


I get the appeal of Vikings— wayward, loud, non-conformists, cement walls of determination. There’s little plan or purpose in the margins of a marauder’s life. Vikings don’t carve to-do lists, intuition isn’t fancied up with feelings, memory something to learn from or discard. I’d do well in [...]

2020-09-24T21:51:16-07:00By |Poems|

Fighter Pilot

It was 1990, the end of summer. My boyfriend and I crossed the Mexican border into Texas. I kissed the blacktop in El Paso, glad to be rid the wilting dogs, kids with guns, and gangland wars. We went to California, in an orange VW bus, registered [...]

2020-09-24T21:53:21-07:00By |Poems|

Marigold Season

My house is aglow with mason jars of marigolds. Their delicate leaves fan out like hummingbird wings. Thick stalks serve as understudies to the burst of scent and color above. Their orange, spongy flowers lean upward toward the light, dancing center-stage. Flowers mirror life’s contradictions: Marigolds—gold for [...]

2020-09-24T21:55:22-07:00By |Poems|
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