They really do exist.

I am writing the daily poems but am not putting all of them here, as they are pretty personal.  Today’s not as much.




The crows are circling

in the rain, misted black

against the flat sky.


Their dot eyes see

creatures that will cash

out their pine forest.


The squirrels hide,

swirling up the tree,

the green is no cover.

April 2

Questions of Flight


I’m joining the spring birds,
flying north to the lakes, rivers,
and auroras, ready for the sky
and the long water.

I don’t await the cold, the harsh
light of white. I’m impatient
for global warming to move
north with me, tempering
the ages and seasons.

Not a refugee, though
sometimes it feels like that,
pushed out, and pulled in,
back to where I departed.
When questioned about those years,
explanation will include the kindness
of that era, the boxes packed
with memory that is as dazzling
as the awaited auroras.

::taps microphone::

Well, hello there.

I’ve been busy this summer sending out submissions,  writing a query letter, and organizing the upcoming poetry club at the elementary school I work at.  And so many revisions.  On so many things.  Plus more on the newer-ish novel.

I’ve got four submissions out right now, a slew of poems which would be um… ::counts:: 10, and a short story. I just hope that the eventual rejection letters don’t all come on the same day.  That would be kind.  Of no one’s doing though but mine.  Heh.

So query letters.  They are a thing that may need more revision than the actual novel.  Which also still needs some cleaning up, but I decided years ago that it would be a forever project.  So I don’t worry.

I’m also contemplating in a very small way, asking people to read it.  Can you imagine the gall in that!?  LOL  Only a very tiny part of me feels that way.

Thanks for reading!