Category Archives: Writing

Unaccustoming

I’ll mute this blog for 20 days or so.Before a streak becomes a bully pest,I’ll pause the pen and so unpen a flowof novel observation. I’ll investattention otherwise and come to knowenvironments as temporary guest.My pack and too my feet … Continue reading →

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Introduction

It’s like a trope – “I’ve never been this agebefore.” I say it often cause it’s true,and though we’ve books and references to gaugethe drastic strokes and lapses that accrue,I write about the minor stuff – a pageon aches or … Continue reading →

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Glimpses into the Obvious

If I collect the stanzas labeled “aging,”I’ll have a chapbook I don’t want to read.For though I’m daily surveying and gaugingthe physical conditions that impedemy customary habits, and the bleedof dashing brain discernment, it’s enoughto jot and type and edit. … Continue reading →

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Fictionals

I once imagined my ex-husband’s mom,when she was young and hadn’t been long wed.The process fused to detonate a bombof understanding. Afterwards, insteadof harboring disdain and nursing grief,I wrote a story as I gave some thoughtto motivation. Fiction bore belief;by … Continue reading →

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A Piece of Paper

How discombobulating, when I losean item from my careful custody.I seldom carry much – I check and choosethe minimum I need sustaining me,and check again almost obsessively.It wasn’t key, misplaced when shifting homes,but half-denying mediocrity,I can’t forget that paper with … Continue reading →

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Clear Coffee

I start each day with mugs of coffee still.I’m old, but it does not upset my gut.My hand may quiver some, but I don’t spillthe liquids I convey. I’m happy, butthree times a year or so I have to stillthe … Continue reading →

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Where the Prose Ends

I’m paging through this blog a year a dayto find the date I finished posting prose.I aim to lose the papers that displayold poetry cloud-clustered, for I choseto edit most and repost anyway.My strategy is to recycle thoseoriginals. But I’m … Continue reading →

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The Sitting Tree

I call the office, weekdays, 4 pm.And when I’m in the city at that timeI sometimes stop, cough up commuting phlegm,and perch here where the kids are wont to climb.I adult-talk before I play with them.Today I tag this sitting … Continue reading →

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A Flaw in Harville’s Argument

An imperfection in a favorite book(less glaring than the one in Fielding’s tome),impressing me so much, because it tooka hundred reads and screenings to perceive,does not decrease my pleasure. I’ll still lookwith admiration at the plot and words,but take a … Continue reading →

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UnWilling

It didn’t change as I grew more mature –to watch the work I scanned art therapy.I saw the play and felt like a voyeur;I didn’t want to process agony.I’m longing for more objectivity.It’s great, but could be finer’s my refrain.I … Continue reading →

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