- 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 . . .
Tag Archives: Winter
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
southbound the irresistible urge to follow A Hundred Gourds 4:1, December 2014
Each April, Oklahoma poet Ken Hada gathers writers together for three days of readings, camaraderie and celebration of the written and spoken word at East Central University’s Scissortail Creative Writing Festival in Ada, Oklahoma. This was the second year I’ve had the … Continue reading
coyotes– I lie awake listening for the sound of your footsteps, your breath . . . the heavy stillness of life Fire Pearls 2: Short Masterpieces of Love and Passion
he calls it poignant when I hang ornaments on our front porch . . . looking for company long days after Christmas Fire Pearls 2: Short Masterpieces of Love and Passion
long night moon he traces figure eights on my shoulders the sorrows of yesterday . . . light as a swan’s feather Skylark 1:1, Spring 2013
another year . . . my wish list no longer than a haiku As someone who was seriously bitten by the haiku bug three years ago, I find it fairly easy to provide anyone who’d like to give me a gift with a … 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
reading Shakespeare I try to teach my students metaphor . . . shaken by the music of bare ruined choirs Skylark 1:2, Winter 2013