Friday, April 30, 2021



Utah is the height of my life,

Slot canyons,

Slick rock,

Running, hiking, cycling, and music.

A giddy high feeling,

Everywhere I go.

Dirt, dust, red, orange,

Scenery that looks like a painting.

And then there’s night.

Stars, stars, and more stars.


Where I pushed myself to the limit,

Went out of my comfort zone,


And thrived.


Where I raised the bar,

And vowed to never go low, 


Thursday, April 29, 2021

Rats around my house

Based on a writing prompt: Rats, so agile and curious, surround my house.

In my dream,

Rats, so agile and curious,

Surround my house.

I don’t live there anymore.

I don’t remember seeing rats

Although I did find a dead mouse on my driveway one time.

I left it there,

It was gone by morning.

Parsing my dream.

A house I no longer live in,




What did I do today

that put rats and my house

in my mind?

I remember the rats in New York City,

Outside the office building where I worked.

They were big

With long tales.

They came out before sunset,

Lounged on the concrete

Went wherever they wanted to on the plaza,

Because, seriously, who was going to stop them.

My house in suburbia

Didn’t have rats,

Just that one mouse,

And snakes in the yard.

It wasn’t my favorite place to live,

It was always just a house to me,

Never a home.

Maybe that’s why the rats

Surrounded it in my dream.

Maybe they were curious 

To see what kind of creature

Doesn’t abandon a sinking ship,

Like they do.

Yes, it was a dream

Not reality,

Rats, agile and curious

Surrounding my house.

Keeping me out or keeping me in?

I’ll never know,

The dream woke me up.




Wednesday, April 28, 2021

Shirts in the drawer

 This one started from a writing prompt and then took on a life of its own.

His shirts in the drawer

She can’t stand seeing them anymore.

Sees the buttons she replaced

The stains she tried to erase.

Worn out memories

Faded logos and words.

She closes the drawer

Leaves the shirts in their place.

Third drawer down

That’s where they’ve always been

Clean and neatly folded

Growing older with each day

A reminder of good times, bad times,

And all the times in between.

When it’s time to move

She doesn’t know what she’ll do

No need to bring the furniture

Just what she needs to live,

A few reminders of where she’s been,

And space.

His shirts in the drawer

She kept them because it was easier

Than giving them away.

Soon she will need to decide

What to bring and what to leave behind.

Her head tells her to let go

Her heart asks her to hang on.

Her hands want to touch the softness

But she knows what they need to do.

Lift the shirts out of the drawer,

Place them in a bag,

And remove them from her life



Tuesday, April 27, 2021



I hear distant rumbles

and feel the air change.

Watch for a flash,

so I can count the seconds before the boom,

Look up the weather report one more time,

As I wait for the rain to pelt my windows,

and soak the ground.

I leave the windows open,

Until the wind and rain decide to


The rumbles get louder.

The light show arrives.

Rumbles are punctuated by booms that rattle

my apartment's old windows.

I hear the rain hitting the glass, 

The sky lights up,

Faster and faster,

Lightning dancing across the sky, 

Warning of the sounds to come.

Severe thunderstorms were predicted.

It looks and sounds like

the meteorologists got it right,

This time.

Saturday, April 3, 2021

Spring #1

 First spring poem this year

Sitting outside,

Blossoms on the nearby cherry trees

Flowers on the bush to my side.

Looking at the beauty around me,

While my nose runs

And my throats gets scratchy.

Ignore the minor discomforts of allergies

And focus on spring, 


The clear blue sky.

A light cool breeze,

The warmth and growth surrounding me.

Savoring the moment.

As a bird near me chirps 

A response comes from across the street

and a musical conversation begins.

Call and response

The birds stop singing .

And i hear cars again,

And the murmur of a conversation behind me.

A couple walks by

I sit



In this space and time

Wishing it could last forever.

Friday, April 2, 2021

Mom talked to me yesterday

 Her voice in my head seemed so real, it felt like she was there.

Yesterday my mom lectured me

She’s been gone over two years

And she still tells me her opinion

I don’t mind it now as much as I used to.

I like hearing her voice in my head

And hope I never forget the sound,

The rhythm,

Words and phrases she made her own,

The tell-tale sigh, the exasperated admonition,

The doubt and pride, 

The music.

Tie that Binds

 I seem to be writing about my mom lately. This poem was prompted by a line in a book I was reading. The tie that binds mother and daughter.

The tie that binds mothers and daughters

is like no other.

It’s like the eternal light,

that never goes out.

There’s no physical alter,

Although the sacrifices seem to be many.

There’s a tie,

That sometimes tears

But never fully breaks.

The light may falter,

But it continues to glow,

Even after death.