- nonstop . . .
- leaning on his cane . . .
- southbound . . .
- old friends . . .
- tanka time . . .
- stars, planet, moons, et. al. . . .
- exquisite corpse update . . .
- exquisite corpse, anyone? . . .
- virtual friends . . .
- perhaps . . .
- cobwebs . . .
- After the Funeral . . .
- anthology fever . . .
- Throwback . . .
- new moon rising . . .
Category Archives: Family
leaning on his cane he looks like a character out of Bashō . . . weighed down at end of day by the weight of his shadow –for Larry red lights 11:1, January 2015 Some of you might know that my husband, … Continue reading
After the Funeral On the night flight back to Manhattan, I replay our last phone conversation. Hear the slurred speech from his deathbed as he asks if I’ll be coming home soon. The pain in his voice when I try, … Continue reading
Throwback This is my sister’s story. My sister, who carries the genes of our mother’s grandmothers —Miriam and Polly and Mary—in her face, in her arms, legs, feet, hands. My sister, whose skin is red, like a sunset that bleeds … Continue reading
Nothing more remains of the house her father built close—too close—to the tracks. Not the wrap-around-porch where she and her sisters perched like a charm of songbirds. Not the wooden swing hung from the porch ceiling. Or the morning glories … Continue reading
In tribute to the first new moon of the New Year, and all the loved ones we also may briefly have lost sight of: . . . Camera-in-hand, I stand, watching, waiting, thinking I might capture some long-lost image; that through some magic transformation of … Continue reading
squirreling away words for the long winter . . . my sister asks me to remind her of life before dementia Skylark 1:2, Winter 2013
hide and seek the ring around her memory Frogpond 36:3, Fall 2013
It’s been such a privilege for me to share in the remembrances of all those who’ve contributed poems to honor their loved ones here during the past two weeks. I am humbled, not only by the response to my call … Continue reading
Chrissi Villa is one of the sweetest, gentlest spirits I have come across in a very long time. A recent widow, she’s begun writing a series of tanka prose about the loss of her husband as a way of dealing … Continue reading