In the newspaper this week
a small paragraph
two girls;
sisters driving
from here to there
2:30 a.m. into the jersey wall
just going too fast
but this isn't jersey
and now they aren't
here or there
merry nothing,
how many times
did their dad say
slow down
how many times
did their mom say
too fast
how many times
did the sister driving
or the sister riding
say you worry too much
just let me live?

A beautiful white-haired lady
and her handsome white-haired husband
both dressed in Christmas best
approached this row as I watched
She said in a loud voice
"Well if I'm not elderly,
I don't know who is,"
and she sat down belongingly

while I sat nearby, smiling
because of the posting
for the obvious Pregnant

wheels spinning,
feeling slightly stuck
despite so much left to do
slow and steady
earns me grace?

Snickerdoodle Saturday

The best part about Christmas
is everything.

not dressed up,
nowhere to go,
could it be any better
than this?!
let it snow!!!

December roses,
after months of bounty,
take a last gasp
before the icy hand of winter
bids them
"sleep"

always,
I find solace
in those places,
those images that have brought peace
to my brain
since I was small

my God is an awesome God;
but His mother is from Venus
and so am I

ultraviolet
radiance

Hosanna
streams from the radio
and it's a message
of hope

hold
out
hope!

As dreary as these days
have been,
it just takes a peek
at magnificent color
to feel alive,
a December get-away
from so much grey.

I'm already counting,
waiting for the leaves
to return to the branches.

Hospital windows,
portals/
escape routes to return
to air that I can breathe
without feeling sick,
hopeful signs through glass
that life goes on,
despite the whispers
within these walls

Heal
them
all,
bless
every
one

Don't
let
anyone have
to pass hour upon hour upon hour
sick
or alone
or sick and alone

Look,
I can see my car
and it's all I can do
to not run for it,
full-speed,
through a window,
if that's what it takes
to get
out.

To take something whole,
cut it into shapes,
move them around for a few
minutes, or for a few hours,
or for a few days or months,
and to put it together
to create a brand new
something,

that delights me,

To have a bit of control
in the midst of a mighty
and powerful world
where most everything else
is entirely out of my hands,

Rotary cutter
rulers in an assortment
of sizes and shapes
threads and beads
at the ready,
a bountiful collection
to choose from,
I climb out of my brooding abyss
surrender frustration
deny fear
and allow the hum
of my sewing machine
to mend the gaping
holes in my heart.

Pain
is something we
as human beings
are guaranteed,
at some point or another.

Suffering,
however,
is a choice.

Dear God,
please nudge me
to experience
pain of others,
so that when
it's closer to home
I can
feel less alone.

And Dear God,
I am grateful beyond words
that you have given me
three gifts to better cope,
fiber,
a camera,
and words,
a multitude
of words.

all
fall down

and we all
do, sooner or later

stunned,
shaken,
disbelieving
that the unsteady ground
would give way
to elastic legs,
and slippered paws

in a brittle-boned
betrayal

Happy Birthday Emily Dickinson

eighteen hundred poems,
really?

how wonderful you
bothered to write them
and how wonderful someone
bothered to count.