Monthly Archives: December 2016


The world today is cold and I am warm. It’s not appropriate to vent my rage. All long for spring – alone I covet storm. I force myself to face this empty page. The rags of fog we saw among … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment


The Internet’s delaying me today. The information highway has a jam. The bank denied, the airline blocked the way to mileage plus, the email’s mostly spam, and slow is navigation. I reboot and fidget while the server steps to screen, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Jerry’s Phone and Anne’s Bag

I was raised by a precise man. My father was an engineer worthy of the term. His field was mechanical, but he acquired an electrical license in middle age. He understood all construction. He could repair most. Dad taught me … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction, Neighborhood | Leave a comment


I wasn’t very civil yesterday. I rose after a night of broken rest and everything I noticed had a way of generating discontent in breast and snap complaint or argument in head. I stretched my neck, addressed my hemorrhoid itch, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

The Last Supper

A week from Friday, when the world may end, believers will abase their souls in fear, and I’ll be having dinner with a friend, discussing how my daughter’s acting queer. We’ll drink our wine and sample Southern food, observing both … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Yule Trial

I guess I lost an earring yesterday, a favorite pretty valuable to me. And I have been so frantic – that’s my way – I’ve singed my pants and comforter. You see, I’m lately far too busy to be smart, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

A First

If I have ever written verse outside, I don’t remember when. But here I sit in sunshine, at a table, modified by garden foods and exercise to fit, protected from all vehicles and phones. I haven’t a complaint or grief … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Writing | Leave a comment

Many Happy Returns

My mother is a wizard at returning merchandise. Like a builder who gets more gratification from demolition than construction, she seems to enjoy returning more than acquiring. When I was young, I’d often come home from school to find her … Continue reading

Posted in Fiction | Leave a comment


At 6 a.m. it’s 33 degrees outside, and clear as polished leaded glass. We’re tempered by the bay – we seldom freeze – but still I’m glad to goose the natural gas to toast ceramic logs to radiate to warm … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Weather | Leave a comment

Elder Wisdom

My 34 year old invited me by text to call him: I.R.T. we spoke. He asked about his oldest friend – did he once like that neighbor? Yes. And then he broke the news: the kid was lost in smoke … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Question | Leave a comment