I posted this poem days ago. And then a few nights later I read it out loud to a group of fellow “creatives” (they did
What is this uproar Of “All Lives Matter”? As if all of them ever did? As if those first white-faced arrivals Cared about the natives
Not a poem, really. More like a stream of consciousness… He was alive on Mother’s Day. Did he already know? Was a plan in motion?
This beautiful poem, entitled “Pandemic,” somehow landed in my inbox. As I read it, I found myself taking a deep, cleansing breath. Actually, a few.
Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You
The 3 of us, my first sisterhood: I was 7 and 9 when Camelia and then Claudia (we called her “Nikki”) joined the family. I
I WORRIED I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers flow in the right direction, will the earth turn as it was
Thank you to the Warrior Women, The mothers, daughters, sisters, wives, The Suffragettes and Women’s Libbers Who marched and died, The noisy ones, the angry
There is a time to wave the white flag, Because conflict is exhausting, And battling reality can be a fool’s errand, But this is not
THE UNITED STATES FLAG CODE Title 4, Chapter 1 § 8(a)The flag should never be displayed with the union down, except as a signal of dire
I would have liked… to know your 28-year old self, to give you a hard time about not blessing me with grandhildren (or blessing me
It was a good day. The country united in awe, Remembering how insignificant we are in the Universal scheme of things. A rare event,