Hush Now

sometimes the world  grows tired of our stories, our clever talk. so listen, and let silence be a salve for so many useless words

No Place Like Home

Click your heels It was supposed to be easy to get back to the place where you shook off extra wheels, your dad letting go, you letting yourself go,            boy! did you go Now at the end of your wobbling u-turns is just  free-wheeling you looking for a way home  

What We Knew of Cavendish

What Cavendish knew could set your hair afire make you sink every ducat in your purse clink clink clink into the brass box make you light a candle or two drop to your knees and wish you didn’t know you knew him.

Oh, Lily dear…

  Bravo!   You refused to loosen your hair for a blackguard. Off you go! Stealthy on ballerina toes. Oh! Feel your way. The bank is muddy, the wind ripe with columbine and fennel. Your bouffant protected by a black hood.    

Headline: August Ends. Poems Set Stage for Reds and Golds

Pack your book bag with poetry. It’s light, portable, and no education is complete without it. Think you’re done learning? Think again. All the world’s a school. If you missed registration for the  August Postcard Poetry Festival 2016 and would like a postcard poem, let me know- it’s not to late, I’ll send one your way.  …

In August, a poem can be a predawn swim, the sun rising…

Summer wanes, but there’s time for a few more games of Marco Polo. Your brown shoulders, slick with coconut lotion, meet the bright smell of chlorine as you move about the pool. If you missed August Postcard Poetry Festival  and would like a postcard poem, let me know and I’ll send one your way…    

In August, a poem can be cool like Charlie Parker…

Not on the beach? No biggie. Sip ice coffee and let the Bird tell you about Summertime. If you missed registration for the  August Postcard Poetry Festival 2016 and would like a postcard poem, let me know and I’ll send one your way…    

In August, a poem is the green scent of cut grass…

Get swingy in a hammock, let your left toes tickle the lawn. Everything around you is a poem. If you missed registration for the  August Postcard Poetry Festival 2016 and would like a postcard poem, let me know and I’ll send one your way…

In August, a poem can be an international flight of fancy

Packing for adventure? Tuck a slim volume of Rod McKuen in your carry on. No travel plans? Let poetry take you away. Find a bar decked in California plush and spend an afternoon in the cool dark tippling something dashed with bitters. Read poems to the bartender- and maybe pen some lines of your own. If you missed registration for…