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Art heart…
The heart lunges, it hungers, it leaps. I’ve seen it try and pour itself out in saving others or giving to others in a beauty that is unrecognized by the fearful, the hurt, the hungry. They lash out...
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kitchen visions…
Knife flies, onions weep, garlic peel sticks Mother cries with throat clogs. Time flies while Fur Elise sweeps the keys. Who knew? This was no season for angst. Where is the time kept that perfected...
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Fly, Soul, Fly
Stacked up newspapers wait to be devoured. Mother doesn’t do computers. She’s old school. She reaches to touch paper; devour crosswords, comics, recipes, an historic article, anything fauna or flora. I...
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Age trumps…
Spring. 84°F today. Some places still sleep in their winter. It’s only March. Spring, on my dark, warm street. It’s only 8:30 p.m. Enough time later for night’s cool crocodile breath. Sprinkler heads...
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Oral Surgery
She looked vulnerable. Her face as pale as her cream colored sweater, the gauze the dental assistant had placed in her mouth, in an effort to stem any blood from the holes where one rotted tooth and...
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Purity vs Perversion
Soft downy baby fuzz cherubic dimpled cheek tiny curled fist flailing, tugs her heart, fills her soul, twinkles her eye, brightens her smile. Or so it should be for a Mom. It’s understood. Curled at...
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Four Part Harmony
The calendar says Spring. Mild temps and blue skies. It mostly is here but my friends in Nashville have snow flurries today. Snow in March. Winter Vortex has reached its icy fingers south this year....
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Disappearance.1
We heard today our friend went into hospital. Bed sores, disoriented, blood sugar out of whack, anemic. They noticed, I guess. Anyway they called an ambulance. I remember her at the piano, smiling her...
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i am subject
I am participating in Diane DeBella’s #iamsubject project http://www.iamsubject.com/the-iamsubject-project/. Here is my #iamsubject story: It felt good to know who I was. My job paid enough that I...
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Death and the birdbath…
Mother loves birds. Wild birds on PBS Nature specials. Tiny glistening, quivering Hummingbirds at the back yard feeder. Plain sparrows with their nest in the top leafy branches of the big apricot tree...
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Family Moves
I am twelve years old when Daddy calls a family meeting. We come together in the living room, the doors, windows and curtains closed against the deepening dusk. Outside it’s rapidly cooling down after...
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Softball
We were twelve. The sun shone. Our hunger had been satisfied with grilled hamburgers and watermelon. We sat Indian style on the grass. He was cute. Short blond hair, light brown eyes and nice...
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Cornbread
How hard can it be to make a pan of cornbread? We grew up eating cornbread with a big pot of pinto beans. Two or three times a month. Maybe more. I must have seen Mother make cornbread back then....
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Survivor
Daddy is from a generation that worked hard. That never feared sweat and toil. He grew up on the land, took care of animals and studied late in the night to be the best he could be. All my life his...
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Handyman – Protector
Rock strength rescues fearful female, bug halts in skitter across the floor, spider loses its web faucet leak, blown fuse, garden weeds coughing carburetor, flopping slapping tire dead battery,...
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Ear Buds
There’s a whole world that travels from computer or smart phone up the thin cords through the rubber ear buds where it bursts into life and dance and frolic that careens around the gray matter of my...
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