I lost myself in the weight
of an unmoved mountain,
having failed to find the faith.

A volcanic thrust
in my limbs and throat.

I lost myself in the fire
of instant words fresh
from the molten earth.

Like stopping flood waters
with a screen door.

I lost myself in the flow
of first thought,
in the waves of reaction.

Just a moment and the marks
are left on the hardwood floor.
The ash hangs from the door frames.
The outlines of loved ones stand out
on the stained charred walls.

The pinks and whites of azaleas

lie in the imagined future, the when

where children’s play will reverberate

while lovers discreetly hold hands.

In this when is a place of women only,

the only sound speechless falling snow

as it erases all other colors, replaces

a lover’s hand with an umbrella shaft.

There are no men to warm the night,

to quicken children not to be born.

The year could be any, to come or recall,

the season another dark winter of war.

(after the painting, “Nezu Shrine,” by Tsuchiya Koitsu)

We sailed to Havana, Cuba,
Across the Florida Straits,
Ariving at La Habana Harbor,
A mystifying island of uncertain fate.

We toured throughout Havana,
The people were gracious and kind,
Making a lunch stop at La Floridita,
Papa’s favorite spot to unwind.

We traveled to Finca Vigia,
Hemingway’s lookout estate,
His tropical island get-a-way,
Where composing was his fate.

His library was enshrined,
And what a gorgeous view,
The backdrop picturesque,
And the sky was solid blue.

His fishing boat the Pilar,
Was dry-docked down the hill,
Standing right beside it,
Hard to imagine this was real.

We enjoyed Havana’s nightlife,
At Club Parisienne, 
The entertainment among the finest,
We had heard or seen.

An early morning in Old Havana,
Took us back in time,
The magnificent colonial structures,
And hearing the cathedral chimes.

The classic cars were a sight to see,
Cruising down the street,
What an unforgetable trip,
Visiting Hemingway’s retreat.

As the boat set out to sea,
We gestured our goodbye,
Sailing past Morro Castle,
Under the blue Havana sky.

Locked and loaded
DJ Trump captured
minds

Anxiety—
Clawing at my brain like a cat scratches upholstery
Shredding my nerves and
Gouging my sanity
Until all that remains is a tangle of loose threads
And a knot of panic too tight to unravel

A relationship is an unbroken line, steep, sweet, rolling, reeling, knotted or devoted, long and meandering, faint or grooved, jagged or soft, spirited or not, straight or spiral complicated, from infinity (even if we’ve just met) to this moment.

You don’t fear falling
once you have learned to always 
land butter side up.

A friend recently told me 
he could not imagine 
me having a hard life
In many ways, I don’t
my bills get paid
I knew on our first date
that my spouse was my forever
my home is safe and warm
but I have unseen pain
I have looked into the eyes
of my son wrapped up in the throes
of a substance and mental illness
I have held him when he kept saying 
he couldn’t go on
I have sat with him when he couldn’t stand 
to be touched by another human
Sitting in the hospital with him was a 
frequent event at one time
but at this point he refuses any help
I am the enemy and I probably deserve
that in some ways, because I keep trying to help
when help from others is not what he wants
the choice to not be in the situation he is in
is his alone.  That is hard for me
I am his mother, I NEED to help 
but my needs are not important
I pray constantly, I try to live my life
but knowing that I could be notified at any time
that he has harmed himself irreparably,
it is very hard to be my own self
Yet, that is what I must do
my life is indeed hard right now
but I do have hope and trust in God
that although things might not
happen as I want them to,
my life is worth the effort
it takes to move forward,
even when it feels like it is caving inward