A fear of falling
Something I understand
and consider more often
the older I become
The same fear that
sneaks in as I push my
granddaughter on the swings
“Higher, Gigi, Higher!”
But falling is also
something to be
chased after
To experience
Falling in love
That one I understand
Fear may try to creep in
but it doesn’t win out
I wish I could think
of falling more in
terms of a waterfall
A sense of letting go
A freefall releasing
the weight of fear that
sometimes freezes,
only to thaw in an instant
Releasing my true self
as you watch, cheering
me on-reaching out
your hand when I do fall
Helping me back up or
lying down next to me
on the ground, until
I’m ready to try again
Simply Sunday
Purple Blanket
You stood in the
tall green grass
Its blades almost
above your head
I wasn’t sure if
I’d see you again
in light of current
proposals for change
Changes in the name
of progress, of course
Giving little consideration
to your fragile forest home
Your mom stands steady
near the tree line’s edge
Her gaze fixed on you as
your head tilts and ears perk
She is still and quiet
while you explore
Always curious about the
world outside of your own
And I watch, grateful to see
you, Doe and Fawn, securely
wrapped in the soft, pale
purple blanket of morning
Front of Mind
So many chapters
Various themes
woven throughout
Some short-lived, only
a chapter or two
Others ebb and flow
From forefront
to background
to memory
And then there are those…
Able to move from
back of mind to front
in an instant, saying
Hey! Remember me?
Themes that create
identity, meaning,
and connections
Today, I am the girl
sitting at the piano
I think I’ve been missing her
Simply Sunday
Butterfly
Some would say her
emergence mirrors
our beginnings
Damp wings gently
fluttering to dry
before taking flight
But I would argue her
flight more closely
mirrors our ending
For she has already
journeyed from leaf to
twig, across blades of grass
Over terrain, smooth and
rough, picking up bits
of life all along the way
Eventually wrapping
herself in so many layers
no room remains for living
Only room for reflection-
Like that required for
our final transformation
Leaving behind the shell
that faithfully held us
to the end of our journey
When our spirit, like the
newly flown butterfly,
experiences true freedom
Never Forget
A morning walk with
a friend as the kids
played nearby,
oblivious to the
world outside
Until we arrived home,
flicked on the T.V. and
watched as peace was
destroyed in an instant
Images of planes,
and buildings, and
smoke, and fire filled
our small living room
We watched
as the towers fell
unable to completely
comprehend the destruction
Hours later, kids in tow,
accompanied by friends,
I sat at a piano in a
nearby nursing home
Playing and singing hymns
through tears, in hopes
of calming fears-
The residents’ and my own
I will never forget
Exciting News!
I’m happy to announce my poetry collection, The Space Between Clouds, won first place in the 2026 WriterCon published poetry category!
I was also excited to be a first-time session presenter this year! It was a great experience!
Until it was Time
Nobody told me
how much I would miss you
Maybe they assumed I knew
Common sense and all
But common sense is not
the same as preparation
And missing you is something
I couldn’t prepare for anyway
I suppose they were
trying to do me a favor
A way to enjoy time with
no thoughts of finality
If I even believe in time
Truth is, I already knew
No warning needed
I knew, just kept the
knowing buried deep
Buried deep
until it was time
to remember both
the happy and the sad
Simply Sunday
TRY AGAIN
The drought spreads
dry, dusty air
into my lungs
Seeps under my skin
Hardens my heart
Oppresses my soul
I search for
A sip of water
A drop of rain
Any semblance of relief
I know it exists
That kind of help
already at work
before you even
know it is needed
A light breeze
carrying a cloud
A heavy cloud
releasing the rain
I try to sing
but the words
get caught
in the back
of my throat
You quietly whisper
I am here. Try again
One note carries another
and soon, a melody emerges
from a time long gone-
Restoring body, heart, mind, and soul
“He hides my soul in the cleft of the rock that shadows a dry, thirsty land.” Fanny Crosby
Carried Home
White and wispy
they floated upward
from the horizon
into the wide blue
Like snowy doves
wings spread wide
in a recurring
pattern of flight
Worries that held
tight to my heart
began to fade-
Not withdrawing
but loosening their grip
Funny how peace occupies
the most curious spaces
requiring only moments
before offering relief
I may have been
driving my car
but it was the clouds
that carried me home
The Daffodil and Me
Buried deep in the earth
surrounded by fertile soil
a cycle of moisture
and warmth from
an unseen source above
Encouraging the tiniest of stretches
Baby roots begin
to reach while
grounded- In chorus,
ready to follow
an unknown path
The hard work of
seed to sprout-
The patience of
bud to flower
while weathering storms
Until the sun affectionately
lifts her lovely face
toward the sky
begging the question
What comes next?
This poem is from my collection The Space Between Clouds.
