Author Archives: sputterpub

A Great Age

Posted on December 4, 2019 by sputterpub

The vet described my dog’s old age as “great” when she surpassed her breed’s expected span. He used the adjective to designate immensity instead of good or grand. Likewise your age is great at 94, although you seem to hate … Continue reading →

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Whether

Posted on December 3, 2019 by sputterpub

The sun is setting earlier tonight than it did yesterday. We ascertain we daily have a lesser length of light, but none among us knows when it will rain, or if the winds will hibernate this year. Will quenching water … Continue reading →

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Mostly (A Silent Reading)

Posted on November 26, 2019 by sputterpub

I feel too fortunate to list aloud the goods I have around me now I’m old: my little Berkeley cottage with its crowd of friendly skunks and possums, and the bold intelligence of crows; my offspring fledged to full careers, … Continue reading →

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Dactyls on Home

Posted on November 25, 2019 by sputterpub

It’s stunning to sit here and know that the work is complete. Disrupted for months I’m accustomed to sharing my space. At last I’m alone with no tradespeople stamping their feet to minimize dust from construction all over the place. … Continue reading →

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How it Feels to Have My Place Back

Posted on November 22, 2019 by sputterpub

When I was 35, catastrophe beset me and my body nearly quit. They hooked me up to drips, did surgery two times, and scanned for an appropriate response to symptoms dangerous no doubt. I carried on, reacting brave and wise, … Continue reading →

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Facials

Posted on November 20, 2019 by sputterpub

I don’t remember when I had my first exfoliating facial, but I learned the ravages of stress could be reversed (or maybe just delayed), the lines sunburned could be addressed if I reclined four hours a year and lent complexion … Continue reading →

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Done

Posted on November 18, 2019 by sputterpub

The job’s not perfect but it feels complete. I see some minor damage and some flaws, but I’ve declared it’s fine enough, and sweet my solitary residence, because I’m living now what I dreamt months ago. I had to use … Continue reading →

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Pete’ll Eat It (3-Pete)

Posted on November 15, 2019 by sputterpub

My cousin was a sturdy fragile boy, sun-sensitive and dad-less in LA, who often visited. Then he’d enjoy our walks-and-talks, and time my father made for him – we welcomed him with love and board – we corresponded when apart … Continue reading →

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Re Pete

Posted on November 13, 2019 by sputterpub

The first defender of my poetry is dead. When I was young, my brothers shot at birds and rabbits in the scrub and scree behind the school. Their cruelty made me hot with indignation comforting to vent. My cousin, older, … Continue reading →

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Cuz (Pete)

Posted on November 11, 2019 by sputterpub

The grief engulfed me when I tried to speak. Of course I mourned your unexpected death, but as I talked my tears began to leak, informing me along with ragged breath. You weren’t young but weren’t ancient yet. You’d had … Continue reading →

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