My eyes are closed
The sun’s intense heat
warms my face
Its rays attempt
to pierce my eyelids
Sun spots gently float
across the black
in front of my eyes
I fight the urge to sneak a
peek at my surroundings
My body needs this time-
Time enough to lose
all sense of time
Focused only on keeping
my eyes closed
While sinking deeper into
this out of the blue, but
most welcomed, warmth
Simply Sunday
Dynamic Duo
A perfectly posed pair
Painted in ombre shades
of tan, brown, and white
Their rounded beaks
poised, ready to speak
in sweet solidarity
Their audience of
captivated cattails,
ready to listen
Something tells me
It won’t be a long speech
A lesson in commitment
and contentment, perhaps
Thankful for each other
and their current view
Playful Parcel
It’s been three days
since I saw you
running and playing
in the field with
your friends
Or perhaps,
They were your siblings
I smiled at the sight
of your frolic- and though
I couldn’t stop and
take in the whole
The space encircling me
magically slowed enough
to plant the lovely scene
inside a recollection box
And here I sit, three
days later, smiling again
at the motion-filled painting
expanding in my mind from
one brief moment of noticing
Parcel: a reference to a small group of young deer.
Simply Sunday
The wind’s sway
is strong today
Urging and drawing
This way and that
It is okay to hold on, Little Flower
But keep your eyes open
You never know what
new perspectives
The breeze might
have in store
Limited Power
There are moments,
A scream buried
deep inside begins
rising to the surface
Push it back down, steady-
Letting it out would
surely be unpleasant
Why is it there, anyway?
Big picture, I am ok
Still, frustrations pile
one on top of another
and another, attempting
a coup inside my brain
Truth is, their power is limited
One tangerine sky at the
end of a cool Spring day
and my heart instantly
returns to the helm
And that scream?
It dissipates in a single breath
Exciting News!
I’m happy to share my poetry collection, The Space Between Clouds, is now available!
Simply Sunday
If I were a kite
I’d lean against
My favorite oak tree
Enjoying the shade
and the company
Waiting for a breeze
to lift me high
So I could fly
above the trees
Arms flung open wide
Gliding and giggling
Taking in the beauty
below, offering patches
of shade for the tree
before floating over to you
You, standing straight
and tall in the middle
of a flowery meadow,
holding steady to the handle
If I were a kite
You’d be my lifeline
In the Dirt
Days are long, but
Years are short.
Or so they say
That all elusive “they”
Who receives entirely
too much credit in our
passing days and years
I want to walk,
no, meander,
down a dirt path
Trees on both sides
Transformed into
a shady canopy
Listening to the breeze
Listening to the birds
Stopping only for a
Single ray of sunlight
Peeking through the leaves
To paint a picture
in the dirt just for me
No thought of days,
years, maps, or lists
Only the temporary
Becoming the eternal
I wrote this poem in a recent in-person poetry circle. Listening, reflecting, and writing with this group was a breath of fresh air. Highly recommend! 💛
Simply Sunday
Reaching For Me
I saw a hand
in the sky today
Powerful and strong
Open and inviting
Formed from clouds
while holding clouds
Its blue-gray edges
Lined in bright sunlight
I imagine sitting
safe in its palm
Reclining, at least
for a moment
No worries of
Hatred or war
Sickness or death-
Not ignoring
Only briefly resting
Cradled in the hand
I cannot fully understand
Believing it is there, reaching
A Quiet Notion
Little feet and legs move
Slower…slower…slower
Each step, exaggerated
A game of pretend
The truth inadvertently
revealed, in a mischievous smile
Two tiny hands carry
a glass bowl, carefully
Until, at long last, reaching
A stronger, older set of
hands, patiently waiting
Hands, ready to receive
Willing to share
the weight for
as long as needed
I think there is
a lesson within
this pretending
Carried, offered, received, reclaimed
What feels heavy in
Your hands, my hands,
Your heart, my heart
May feel lighter in the
and heart of another-
The opposite is also true
A quiet notion nudging
us toward a readiness to
cheerfully share the weight
Piano Girl 