Courage to Change

Bike ride NW 2017-05-28 10-30-14

Flying downhill
In perfect balance
Feeling tremendously alive

Trying to carry this vitality
Into each day
Remembering to
Live and let live

Embracing whatever life brings
Everything has something to offer

Be grateful
Thank God when problems present
Replace self-pity with gratitude

Aliveness is mine

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Seeking Salvation


shoulder to shoulder
on the shoreline
cane poles in hand –
jellied worms
lead weights
plastic bobbers

In wife-beater shirts and shiftless calico
they stand [some sit] urgently
fishing for the message
hidden in the murky and muddled
mass of pond scum

Those who believe –
Oh Blessed Brothers-
can become one with the bass and catfish

Under the sterile pecan tree –
like Jesus with the loaves and fishes –
Thelma fans the flies with
Lamb’s International Funeral Home
and prays for the
sheetcake to be enough
for the unexpected plethora of unbelievers
casting for eternal life

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Donny was Right


One bad apple
won’t spoil the whole bunch, girl.

From the garden
I picked from the tempting tree.

The one with a wormhole
piercing the skin
won’t ruin the other
spheres of my life.

Peeling back the layers
of glossy red and yellow
reveals the complex fruit of my life.

The wormhole just a tiny
inconvenient tunnel to the core.

At the core,
the worm
is no longer there;
allowing me the freedom to feast
on the succulent and delicious
fruit of my life.

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House of Mercy




Most  used
Some broken
All unwanted

It appears to be
Here – have my castoffs

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Library Book


herons soar
over frothy
tumbles of water
what cannot be seen
from the shore

turtles mediate
on slick stones
for the time
by a lack of energy

surprisingly sparkles
as it dances
the murky flow
softened by islands

all of this
ushers in the
warm and gentle
of spring

her nose
directs her eyes
to a solitary figure
on a rusting bench

she could smell
the library in the book
as she watched
a finger
pointing to each word

like a wispy cloud
covering the sun
the smell was ephemeral
but strangely
tattooed on her heart

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Antiquarian Aquatics


The zebra swim (shower) cap
skims the gentle waves
and lands softly on the lane rope.
Eunice was just too enthusiastic
as she ponied to Greased Lightning
sending ripples of chlorinated water
to bump in rhythm against the faded blue tile.

Rita perches on her wooden stool
imitating the choreographed motions but
without Eunice’s enthusiasm.

Grabbing a pink noodle,
Elaine wades into the steaming water
and begins to work it between her legs.
With her back to Rita, she moves
among the group enjoying her own song.
Eventually she tires of her melody
and leans on the silver rail.



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So long Facebook

Ash Wednesday


Every click a refresh
of new details


Real? Fake? It is too much.


Every blink a refresh
vivid with  chosen details

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