Moment(u)s

Special for Father's Day, these three postcard poems developed from a prompt to imagine a photograph of someone...

Food

Who else is feeling just a little batty after months of isolated routine that rarely changes?

Shedding

I don't think of myself as a collector, but I was a collector, once. At what age does it become unacceptable to put everything we love on display?

Doorway

Twice a week, I treat myself to writing online with others. This poem came out of one of those experiences, for which I am very grateful.

Planting Seeds

I wrote this short prose piece about teaching, but I think it can be applied to "self", too -- to trust the chances we take...

The Market

On a now rare and frustrating walk, I felt a sense of loss and lament as I looked at the farmers' empty market, knowing it may not open in this season of pandemic.

Kindness

I've been experimenting with non-poetic forms lately, including flash fiction, like this 171-word story.

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