Searching for Words in a Fog

There once was a woman of age Who struggled to honor a page With some nourishing words Ones that sang, flew like birds, But alas! She was never a sage. (And such hopes are so often a cage.)   Plus it’s winter, it’s cold and it’s dark, And her mind must be locked...

A Mystery of Childhood Mementos

I wish I’d remembered to take a photo of my childhood jewelry box. When I was about 8 I wanted one with a ballet dancer who twirled en pointe when you opened the box—all the rage at the time. Instead, my parents gave me one painted with French poodles sitting at a...

A Holiday Atmosphere

If you could create a national holiday, what would it be and why? That was one of the questions I posed to a group of dear friends who gathered on zoom during Thanksgiving weekend. The question seemed like a playful and creative break from the heaviness and intensity...

A Trail Through the Murk

The pleasant shifts in the air I felt a couple weeks ago seem to have fled in recent days. Quite patient until now, today I’m tired of pandemic precautions. Longing for travel. Tired of winter. Maybe I am undone because the vaccine and the increasing sunlight...

Fruit and Death

Autumn Haiku  Sprawled on sunny ground Crunchy leaves and dusty grass Scent of fruit and death  AEP 10/9/20 Fruit and death. The scent of autumn, and what comes to mind as I clear out the house we’ve lived in for nearly 30 years. Finding things long forgotten,...