Sunday, January 3, 2021

frozen facebook page unfriended by winter
insomnia what do sheep count
years of neglect in the barn's collapse 
black ice a skid turns serious
doctored documentary this is not what happened
subtle changes in the gray to grey clouds
the spaces of loneliness, the senseless clutter
repurposed keys and the doors they went to forgotten

Thursday, December 24, 2020

christmas dinner we peel the green off the red potatoes

Saturday, December 12, 2020

december rain the landscape of depression and its unfinished work 

Wednesday, November 18, 2020

odometer 80,000 miles I feel like I've walked every one of them

Tuesday, November 17, 2020

holiday lights we miss the meteor shower

Monday, November 16, 2020

2020s Legacy

winter spell the concession a con session 

vaccine in deep freeze his hand puppets agree we are turning the corner

freedom rally logic bald eagles don't wear masks

stormy weather a voting conspiracy clouds the Capital

stalled front mister nature and his predictable temper tantrum

a president's bruised ego doesn't care california's still burning

herd immunity fables from those who are immune to the truth

covid-19 march a virus more organized than we are

broken concrete the walls of the promised land crumbling

wind advisory a heron roosting in the sycamore


Monday, September 28, 2020

morning jog I chase a grocery receipt across the parking lot

Friday, September 25, 2020

STONINGTON HARBOR LIGHT


If you close your eyes, no lighthouse can help you! ~Mehmet Murat Ildan

The trouble with drowning in the mess of your own life is that you're not in any shape to save anyone else. You can't be a lighthouse when you're underwater yourself. ~Lisa Wingate, The Prayer Box


son's essay his handwritten paper travels to the northeast

autumn reverie fog tinged with wood smoke

stonington harbor light great views but we still can't find the car

cell phone buzz a bee here and there

mystery bird the immature goldfinch without its yellow

pumpkin spice candle flickers of inspiration

cast off shoes the lopsided heels of my last hike

a hint of rust in the maple my husband planted




Tuesday, September 22, 2020

sumac and poison ivy the red leaves before the fall election


published in Haikuniverse 9/13/2020



Saturday, September 19, 2020

coffee stained cup the remnants of our last conversation