I think about my loved ones who have passed very often, but there different times throughout the year that I do a great deal of reflecting as I believe that it does for anyone that experiences such a loss. I am reminded of a poem called The Dash by Linda Ellis. There are many parts ...

This tripod has been around. The box was dusty, shoved in a corner of the attic. Three legs. At least there used to be. I see the joints where repairs were made. The first leg is wooden but the break is new. The break is clean; smooth to the touch. No splinters prick my fingers. ...

As the sun began to bleed  At dusk and the birds Gathered for the evening chorus, I began to wonder if this was A dream.   Your hands were so small, Your eyes never got to see  Pinks and reds of dawn,  Let alone this sunset, or a Full moon.   I had waited so ...

Who is this woman staring back at me?   Lost and alone,        yet connected to a being   Battered and bruised        from a chance she once took   To love a stranger        from a friend she mistook   She is strong but broken –   Misplaced ...

To the man I love,   I remember staring off into the cotton candy sunset and thinking to myself “this world is ours.” Moving through a cosmological horizon without a clue of what lie in the distance. My hand had been on the stick shift. Your hand on mine. My smile, contagious Then one morning ...

Rain falls creating Ripples in our childhood pond, Dark clouds block the moon Inside, I whisper your name, If only the rain were you  

I have seen the skulls Laughing as tears Ran like beads of wax.   Backed up against a cracked mirror, Images of the aurous haired child Stares at me holding a withered Bouquet of violets and dandelions.   Take them small outstretched hands say, The taste of rotting memories Nails its way between us, Our tongues ...

You can read chapter one of the story here. People always said that when you die you finally feel at peace. You are no longer bound by your obligations in the mortal realm. Can those people tell me why I still have a headache, and my neck still hurts? I just got executed. Where is ...

I find my lungs won’t cooperate denying tears of their oxygen for I feel the darkness of the storm   A storm, I myself, almost didn’t survive still trying to rebuild, yet the air’s electric with negative intent   I know what dark road lies ahead and the nasty storms a-brewing, metallic taste   Though ...

You bit my toe when we met. You fell asleep on my couch. You made me so nervous to leave you You didn’t have a crate You were locked in the bathroom. You cried for hours until mommy came home. You claimed me as your puppy that day. You hate it when I leave. You ...