Published in Scribe·PinnedMember-onlyMoon Dreams — Shaman VisionsA Native American Year Under Moonlight — Wolf Moon A shrill sliver, bright as the howl in my empty belly this winter night. Hunger Moon the black-toothed darkness feeds on Moon milk tonight, stealing away the shine from brother’s two eyes. Crow Moon Scorched by the yellow Sun, crow perches on the Moon. …Poetry2 min readPoetry2 min read
Published in Scribe·PinnedMember-onlyChristina’s WorldAn Imagined Insight — Poetry1 min readPoetry1 min read
Published in Scribe·PinnedMember-onlyFinal LeavesDying may be beautiful — You have taken to bed knowing you’re never rising again. And like autumn trees, bright leafed words tumble through your bright air: yellow stories, scarlet sorrows, and the brown leaves of what you learned at the desk of the world. You tell me you never felt finished like there weren’t enough fruit in…Dying1 min readDying1 min read
Published in Scribe·PinnedMember-onlyEpilogueSeeds Tell Their Own Story — Poetry1 min readPoetry1 min read
Published in Scribe·PinnedMember-onlyA Lonely CommunionConnecting with Earth — Poetry1 min readPoetry1 min read
Published in Weeds & Wildflowers·Feb 10, 2022Member-onlyThree Days InHiking Into Light — Three days in — I breathe pines’ tart air, stare into a valleys’ depth, listen to sparrows and finches, feel the touch and the chill flow of waters and wind, and tread on hushed layers of yielding needles beneath my pilgrim feet. …Poetry2 min readPoetry2 min read
Published in Scrittura·Jan 18, 2022Member-onlyStarlessA Soliloquy of Not to Be — At a New Year’s party, a woman asked me, “Do you believe stars can tell our future?” And I slipped into a long monologue, or maybe it was a soliloquy, and told her I was a star-crossed lover... And like so many lovers, perhaps I would fake my life or have…Prompt2 min readPrompt2 min read
Published in Sky Collection·Jan 13, 2022Member-onlyCoco’s KitchenRest Stop Café — Coco’s aqua, cinder block oasis calls you from the busy roadside, as her sign sways in the breeze. She’s fringed with a motley herd of mud-spattered pick-ups and an early rust-brown Olds, so you know the gravy’s good. Hungry for S.O.S. and some stillness, you pull into the gravel drive, tires rolling…Poetry2 min readPoetry2 min read
Published in House of Haiku·Jan 7, 2022Member-onlyWinter VignettesImages of Ice — Poetry1 min readPoetry1 min read
Dec 13, 2021Member-onlyEvery Third TuesdayA Love Ritual — I visit Grandma every third Tuesday for lunch. We slide through the home’s buffet with an orange tray on the rails as Grandma guides her walker, with its yellow tennis balls and blue gingham skirt that my first cousin sewed from Pawpaw’s favorite shirt. Slack-faced women place entrées into shallow…Aging2 min readAging2 min read
