Love is like a braid 
lives crossing, sometimes twisting
god in the middle

You Can't Outrun Sorrow

Four deaths, four years

Other Mother

Each anniversary
a punctuation mark
like a shovel
re-digging the hole
of grief 

365 rungs
to climb out

                                                     You can't outrun sorrow
                                                             so go limp
                                                       when it catches you

  And hope
for a taller ladder
- or smaller shovel 
next year

Everything Passes

Bamboo clicking time
metronome moments of life
days, years, decades pass


Every fall
builds a path to climb 

Every dream
a gossamer thread to hold

Every step
a footprint to guide others 

Every nod
an imprint of friendship

Every word 
a sounding for humanity

Every kindness
a boon to elevate the soul

Every prayer
a language to practice

Every act
a speck of dust containing a world

Every solace
a fragrant planting 

Every tear
a drink to share

Every smile
a bridge to our destination

Nature's Grace

I turned my face to the sun

to be warmed by nature’s grace

I tuned my ears to the trees

to hear the birds sing

and around my feet

the curled leaves twirled -

for one last dance

in the grass

with the wind.

Ordinary Things

Sometimes I 
am amazed by
the beauty of
families doing 
ordinary things
and I am
overwhelmed with
the sweetness of life

When Clouds Come Down to Play

At 20,000 feet
looking down at the clouds
I marveled at how
they looked like drifts of snow
and thought: maybe the clouds
want to be touched
so in a rush to be first
they scatter themselves
into a million little flakes
and then reassemble
on the ground, waiting
for children's hands to
fashion them into
glorious shapes

My Brother's Bike

A perfect summer day and
I will triumph over
 my brother's bike.

It's too tall and has that extra bar -
you know the one I'm talking about.
The excruciating boys' bar 
that I will struggle with today
and perhaps the rest of my life.

Rolled out - training wheels gone
I am determined, wobbly,
...and I am down.
Barely two houses past my start,
but I will not be beaten.

Me, of the 'pleasingly plump' variety,
me, of the 'smart little girl' variety,
me, of the 'baby of the family' variety,
still believing those are good things.

I climb on again -
my toes barely touching the ground
and begin to pedal slowly, 
then faster and faster, 
past Crabby Appleton's house
glorifying in my success, elated!
I see curb ahead, 
and psyching myself out
attempt the turn, fearful,
...and I am down. 
Ouch! Shoot!

Quickly I look  around, 
already more afraid
 of looking bad
then of the actual pain 
I'm experiencing.
My knee is bloodied, throbbing,
but I will not be beaten.

Now, one whole side 
of the block is gone, 
and I am passing houses 
I only know the backs of
from walking the top of the fence
behind my own, 
and I am triumphant!

Until I crash into a fence covered
in roses - fragrant roses, 
that tear at my limbs, 
yet one leg stays on the ground
and tip-toed, seeking, pushes off 
and I am my way home, 
riding like a pro.

When I get there 
my brother growls 
what are you doing 
with my bike?
Riding it, I assert,
until I have my own.

Statues Without Noses


In Rome I saw
avenues of long deceased men
chiseled, upright
who lost their noses
and while still dignified
no longer appeared
to be wrinkling them
in distaste
at mere mortals passing.