In memory of my grandmother, Irene Leister, who passed on January 3, 2018.   Warm sun on neck, shoulders Toes wiggled down into cool soil Just beneath a sun-warmed layer of earth. Fingers grasp greens, near earth, and pull Orange carrots, bent, twisted in shape, Choosing the ones that seemed ready Just the way she…… Continue reading Tending the Garden

Years have passed in the seven days that elapsed since I was home. A week ago, I loaded my car and got onto the highway heading west, again. But it can’t be just a week. This place is a space between it feels like a month or maybe more just like the miles that aren’t…… Continue reading Time Travel

I feel like I owe apologies to all the friends I clung to as they tried, politely, to drift away. All the ghosters I wouldn’t let ghost. All the people I kept messaging texting Facebook-interacting. I’m sorry I didn’t take the hint, sorry I made it more than it was sorry I couldn’t just let…… Continue reading Let Go

Your father built the trailer house And took you to live in it. Your heart stayed trapped beneath the caved in roof. Peeling paint and rotten wood, splintered around window frames glass missing or fragmented, sharp edges cut misplaced fingers and pieces crunch under boots that find their way through debris and juniper thickets. The…… Continue reading Peeling Paint

I’ve moved to a new place. I’ve written some, in the past three weeks that I’ve been here, but mostly in my journal, and only a couple poems. One, I don’t know if I’ll ever post it publicly, and then this one, I wasn’t sure if I would. I’m dealing with a resurgence of my…… Continue reading Alone- Why?

A deer appeared suddenly in front of my car going fifty on a mountain highway. Near enough I could see her eye solid black, her body in profile as she froze between the white and yellow lines. I was sure that was it that I would hit her. Even as I hit my breaks I…… Continue reading Split Second