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…breathe deeply and often…

  • The dusty journals

    Image generated with AI. Junebug looked at the stack of dusty handwritten journals in the corner. Like hell she wanted them. That’s all she needed, a stack of hundred year old books piled up beside the toolbox in the laundry room. Maybe they’d be better next to the washer, between the shelf where the charger Read more

  • Flutter

    Above the trees wings spreadBlack and cawingOn the breeze What’s left of theLeavesAs they race to flyHigherIn swirls and in whirlsBend to the groundAnd I dipThen upBefore I touch and soarAnd dive down againAlmost to the groundFallingWings spreadBlack and cawingOn the breezeBefore fall Becomes Winter again. Read more

  • Listen 

    I want to hear sweet nothings,  Things that are easy on my ears, not harsh reality laden syllables words and songs that are sweet and soothe my selfish ego.  I don’t want my eyes to twitch with bad news of wars and rumors of wars.  “Do you hear what I hear?” The words to an Read more

  • Today’s Expectations

    Today is a day that I have lots of unexpected things on my mind. I’m not feeling particularly creative as much as documentative about it. There’s flour all over the kitchen because there’s no point in cleaning it up yet. I’ve yet to make the pastry for the pasties. I expected to have that done Read more

  • Unexpected Thanksgiving Visitor

    “Room for one more?” Shelly said with that sideways grin of hers and Wisconsin accent. The daughter of my mom’s estranged sister was at my door. I’d recognize her anywhere. She had the same stringy hair and bangs she did when she was nine, and her mom left her with my parents for the summer, Read more

  • This year I am Thankful

    This year I am grateful for so many things, but what swims to the top of mind are my live-in son, Ian and his girlfriend, Norris, and of course my writing group. Ian and Katelyn have gone out of their way to be nice to me. I appreciate being included in their plans and lives. Read more

  • Well, you never asked…

    Your eyes filled with tears-Why didn’t you let me help?Well, you never asked.Can I come as well?I’m bouncing from foot to foot.Well, you never asked.Why don’t you join meSwinging arms, walking, skipping?Well, you never asked. Well, you never asked….is a statement about you or me. I could make it all about me, or all about…

  • Longing: 2 Haiku

    Longing: 1 HaikuClosing my eyes andWanting what hasn’t been gainedSmiling wistfullyLonging: 2 HaikuSpending time aloneI rub my hand o’r my heartA weight in my chest

  • Thank you, Mr. Sullivan

    I suppose the Appalachian tradition of giving kids weird names, Stanley Hugo,  Ervin Otto, or even Oral Homer was part and parcel of growing up in the isolation of the hollers. I was the last of the kids to get a holler name before we moved out to the suburbs, I suppose.My brother got stuck…

  • Report Card

    My son is judging me. If he were to give me a report card it would be  how long do I stay awake when I come home from school,  how much time do I spend writing,  how often and well do I cook for him,  how clean do I keep my room, how clean do…

  • Norris and the Easter Bunny

    Norris heard the rustling in the living room last night before I did. Thinking the worst, he leapt out of bed, and snagged my cheek with his back claw, narrowly missing my eye. Blood poured from the gash he left. There would be a scar. Dammit Norris. While he hotfooted it to the stirring in…