Life 101

i. see her there that wide open tree out my window the one with gray arm branches, no leaves, and peeling bark? holding divine moss in perfectly twisted hands? the one that all the flickers love? I am breaking, she says, just breaking. ii. Here in this valley between...

The Invitation

I love it when the wind strolls in and my meadow friends dance and bow. Love it when waves rush to crash across my ocean where the wide beach smiles up where the eagles rest silent on the wind above etch greetings sky to horizon down to me all the way home: carried...

Artist Statement

Poetry isn’t what I was taught in middle school: rules and stilted contained lines written by long-dead rich old white dudes? Bleh. (I am not my friend Knox who makes old white guys so sexy.) Poetry is living your artist statement. Whether that means saying yes...

Turning the Wheel

for Lynne   1. There is a voice that says “You don’t belong here.” that says “Your voice is not welcome here.” that says “This is my home. Not yours. Get out.” 2. Here is another voice that calls “Bullshit” on the first voice that urges “Fight” urges “Protest”...