Country Road – a haiku

You turn. Go back. My lonely owns today’s dirt road. I need wiggle room . to roam about with- out anyone watching me spray dust, freedom fast. . Wait. Climb inside and roll down that window – tell the wind to chase us wild. .  

Alan W. Harris: part 2

Dr. Alan Harris is the author, illustrator, and literal voice behind the Tales of Larkin book/audio book series. In addition (and I’m sure much to his excitement and wonder of all wonders), he’s also the seventh author in my interview series, Pickin’ An Author’s Knows.  He […]

AirBreathWind

elastic topped, sheer silk, lace-edged, rides high among black skirts, button-ups, . jeans, faded towels, bed sheets – wooden clipped to clothesline – quivering, a slip. . .. .     Photo(and)PoetryPrompt: Air.Breath.Wind at TweetSpeakPoetry . .

My Husband’s Cousin

About a dozen years older than us, he was our first post-college friend – and he was kin to my husband. With him, we spent days (and sometimes nights) exploring via 4WD pick-ups in the deep woods near Mt. St. Helens — during the times he lived with […]

Sunday Double Haiku

    Morning rolls over mountains sigh throwing off fog blankets. Sunlight wakes melting frost, golden grows. Wipe the bleary. Open curtains, reveal day. . . . .

Alan W. Harris: part 1

As part of my Pickin’ An Author’s Knows interview series, I’ve wrangled Dr. Alan Harris, author, full-time veterinarian, and homeschooling father of six. He lives in South Carolina and thus far has penned three Tales of Larkin books – a series about one-inch tall people who live in the […]

Laces over Fairies

I’m not all up on fairies and glitter dust and satin dresses and all that fluff. And for this photo/poetry prompt, I didn’t find the image I snapped a couple years ago of tiny mushrooms in the paddock (that grew on a rotten log and horse manure). Not much […]

Winter Morning

As a rule, winter mornings are gray. And with our place on valley’s edge, fog climbs up and rolls across and sneaks in and sometimes stays until sunset. Today the trees pushed through dawn’s heralding din. March. March. March. As if up the side they stomped. Gah! Retreat into […]

Chapter 4

In this week’s chapter, The Poetry of the Commute, Glynn Young compares drive distances, along with locale and terrain, to the poetic style and content of various writers. A commute of a mile is a short ode: Joyce Kilmer talking about a tree, over and done with before you realize […]

Chapter 3

As I read and write my way through Glynn Young’s Poetry at Work, published by TS Poetry Press, I remember my pre-conceived notions prior to my initial reading of the book last winter: I don’t commute (least not on a road), I don’t pack my lunch […]

butter heavy

i found her chewing through walnuts, cranberries, butter heavy toast. red lip- stick colored her coffee mug. crumbs stuck to table linens. . . . . . TSP photo&poetry: Bread, Pastries, Pies prompt . .

Chapter 2 & Poetry At Work Day

. . Over at Tweetspeak Poetry, they’re celebrating another Poetry at Work Day – where this year’s official poster boasts an image of a pressure cooker and printed in white, off to the side, it says poetry arrived in search of me ~ by Pablo Neruda […]