Four

Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass. ~ Anton Chekhov April is National Poetry Month, so it seemed fitting… When God made a woman He portioned Adam’s rib But when He made a mother He formed her from shattered stone And thread In the forge of … More Four

THREE

Don’t try to figure out what other people want to hear from you; figure out what you have to say. It’s the one and only thing you have to offer. ~ Barbara Kingsolver Nostalgia. The word, translated from the literal Greek, means “the pain of returning home”. Johannes Hofer, a Swiss medical student, originally coined … More THREE

Two

Writing is both mask and unveiling. ~ E.B. White If you can find a south-facing wall in February, on a warmish day when the sun is shining, you can plant yourself in a chair and take off your parka, sit bare-armed with your face to the sky, and feel as though Spring has arrived and … More Two

One

This year I decided to set a goal of penning 12 pieces of work (prose, poetry, essay, paragraph), and as inspiration, I selected 12 quotes on “writing” I thought would help get me started, or at least spark the engine. As it has been said, a dream without a plan is just a wish.  Writing … More One

A brief briefing

Some thoughts on the past 4 months… It all started last July. To be honest, it was even before that; the discontent and restlessness prompting me to look for a change.  In the middle of a pandemic, when you work in healthcare, the logical place to look for change is in your work.  So when … More A brief briefing

2021 –

“We all grow tired eventually; it happens to everyone. Even the sun, at the close of the year, is no longer a morning person.” ― Joyce Rachelle Well I think one could argue that “tired” is how we are all feeling. Tired of digging around in a purse for that mask, tired of runny hand … More 2021 –

metamorphose

During the afternoon, the heat is oppressive. Not in the heavy way like the humid East, but dry and searing, like the southern deserts. And no place is it hotter than my back deck. Intensified by reflection, the sun bakes the wood while calescent wind swirls like a convection oven. The outdoor rug ingests the … More metamorphose

1981

On May 8, 1981, the Friday before Mother’s Day, my mom lost her battle with cancer. Today is the 40th anniversary of that date, and so it seems important to mark it somehow, to give the day time and attention and thought. I was a wee pre-schooler when she left, only 4 years old, and … More 1981

Ashes

The weight of it. The way it digs into my shoulders, pressing on my bones. My back is bent from the strain, my knees bowed. I am stretched thin and my heart is bruised. It’s my own weakness. It’s the burden of my children’s disappointments. It’s the sadness that crept in to our home. It’s … More Ashes