Be doing all the time
I have subscribed 
and payed the dues
It is said that women 
can multitask
Superior in some way
As if this is a prize
A booby prize
But in all that 
reflection becomes 
a dodo bird
Self care a thing 
we don’t do it 
We have to 
Make time
As if life allowed us
to add minutes
to the meter
Perhaps we forget
that living life isn’t 
in the doing
but in the noticing


Kinda squoozed out
Feelin the stress
of being drawn out
day after day
Wrinkly skin
Kinda bent over
Lookin’ at my buddy
Hoping he’s
not noticing
that I’m getting
used up and
wanna give me
the brush off
Missing my sleek
smooth exterior
all glossy and fine
plumped up
full of myself
You look and feel
all ready for
Even if you’re


Olives are 
a celebration
Artichokes are 
a celebration
Lemon sorbet 
a celebration

Cocktails are
meant to be 
a celebration but 
the after party
is sometimes 
a downer

Fresh ripe pear juice 
is a celebration
even if the 
luxuriously smooth 
sweet juice
is dripping 
down your chin

So many little 
Joyful get togethers 
Parties in your mouth
Have a celebration
on me 
Would you like 
your olives
black or green
with or without

From Eugi’s prompt Celebration🥳🥂/


Air meets water
Wind meets waves
Seemingly aspiring 
to be the other
Form reflecting form
I swim
bobbing my head
feeling the line 
on my face
between the two 
Heated breath
from my lungs
escapes upward
bubbles racing
toward itself
Cool water running
in rivulets
down my face
landing back home
Both constantly mixing
Each holds me
each holds the other
yet utterly

Carried Home

Looked briefly and passed by
until I decided to notice
Couldn’t leave it there
down in the mud
sad and degraded
far from it’s purpose

A tiny striped pink sock
The kind that are so soft
they draw your  fingers
in to touch them
It had lost it way
been debauched
by life’s happenstance
Far from its expected fate

It made my heart sad
to see it so covered with 
earth and grime
An unsuitable fate for
such a pretty little thing

But isn’t that us
brimming with
beliefs about life 
when we are young
until we discover
the fantasies in the stories
Until we are soiled 
and stained
and just a little
grubby from all those
little happenstances
that life doles out

I picked it up 
and carried it home
washed it clean
and felt the softness 
against my skin

And isn’t it us
that are uplifted
by the people who take us 
to be their own
holding our softness
in their appreciative hands
giving us a home
stains and all.


I have a relatively clean
I keep up on the dishes
I do laundry once 
a week
My car is fairly tidy
considering I have 
a dog
My style is sleek 
and tight
most of the time
apart from flannel and
sweatpant days
There is very little 
about me that is messy
except my thoughts
and you can’t 
see those
This is why I recommend
The Beach
Splashing and kicking 
Sand and salt on your
hands and knees
you can even be a
I bring my dog
A great glorious
An hour or two
responsibly taken
can fill your car
with sand
and your basket
with laundry
Now if I can just
find someone
to be my Mom
to clean up 
after me
and make
me dinner

Shell for Fiona

The tide withdrew
leaving flat sandy land
sporting shells
and beached dinghies
Long shallow rivers
from the hillsides
uncovered by the 
were made for
my meandering feet
seeking warm water
to pad and splash

Out by the waterline
some with dogs
stood in companionable groups
laughing, calling out
their dogs barking 
and bounding
in and out of waves
One young girl
broke away and 
wandered near

She chatted glibly
There are jelly fish
she said
There’s a large
red one here
Don’t touch it
I said
Sand dollars
were discussed
We traded names
There are shells
like spires here
I said
This was a revelation
I will find you one
I said

She said
We are staying 
right over there. 
I will be here all week
Will you be here tomorrow?
But I was already
contemplating the softer light
of a long lazy day
and soon departure

Padding and splashing 
With certain importance
I set off to find
a shell for Fiona
When at last I 
spied its shape
I gathered it along
with an excellent 
sand dollar

I shouted across
the wind and distance
She ran to me
all lithe exuberance
I proffered my
treasures to 
eager hands
Gifts of shells 
for Fiona
Gift to an woman
whose child has 
long been grown

My Story

I am a Book
worth reading
A collection 
of lines  
My type 
defines my form
Lines stretch 
out from 
my sturdy spine 
to tell my 
brilliant story

My tale is filled 
with transformation
At the beginning 
my character 
bursts on to the scene
open to each day
Throughout my story
my nature alters 
inevitably with each
passing season
Alas, in the end I 
become empty
and my intricate 
mysteries are

If you study
the utter beauty
of my life story
birth to epitaph
you will truly 
know me
You see
chlorophyll fills
my tender veins 
ebbing until I
reach my end
In closing
my cover 
dry as dust
I float away
from view
to become part 
of all things

Even you
I am a Leaf


Dawning Light

What if the dawning 
light of morning
was all the souls
of the past
joining together
to make a beginning

deep inside they say
we can all remember
the beginning
Our beginning

It is a breath giving light
that morning dawn
Remember when you
go to sleep tonight
that all that joy
and togetherness


I placed my hand 
on the grass
and stroked the 
fine threads of 
new green
The center of 
my palm eager
was delighted by
the ticklish sensation
while my fingertips
itched to reach
into the soil and
be touched by
the cool dampness
The back of 
my hand
watched it all
from a little 
higher up and 
in the knowing
that comes from 
letting the sun in