In the backyard with Gramma The giant yellow flowers in Gramma’s garden are taller than I, with rough faces, dark brown, wrinkled. Their fuzzy stems stand thicker than my thumb and I‘m not allowed to touch, do not touch, do NOT...
Read MorePlayground Rejection The boy looked like Chris Pine, and his name was Derik; he liked another girl. He’d chase her around our school’s grassless playground, she’d scream. It looked fun, so I joined. Another boy started to chase...
Read MoreMom‘s little dough dolls Mom’s in the pantry, shaping dough, thick and caramel-brown, into doll figures. They’re like gingerbread men but fancier, because they’re girls. All the shapes are round and smooth, sturdy. Two cookie...
Read MoreAnnouncing an amazing workshop for writers – offer from CBC’s Anna Davis. Am I doing this? You bet.
Read MoreAs originally published on Poetry Super Highway, editor Rick Lupert, Los Angeles, California, August 2022. Combed up Velvet Windswept gatherings of confused moths cloud over and flitter across my speckled...
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It’s quite a big deal for me that this week, I’m a Poet of the Week on the Poetry Super Highway...
Read MoreDespite several heatwaves washing over Europe and my addled wet head these days, I decided I didn’t want to postpone painting a mural in the dining room. On a ladder.
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I created this for my Grandma‘s birthday, remembering from my childhood that her favorite flower...
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