The Journey

When I saw the effects COVID’s social isolation was having on my mother, the difficult physical and mental changes that occur with age, witnessed the deep sorrow lingering from the deaths of her husband and dog, and years later, from the death of her twin, I...

A drop of dew dribblesdown a stem,lingering slightlyon each tiny hair before continuingto earth’s floor. Gravity will notbe thwarted. Nor will the snowballing effectsof time. So, why,on days,is it so difficult to findthe robin-egg blueof the sky?

The morning of the moon’s passing, she whispered the unthinkable;that she had not the energy to keep writing. Like the tundra swans, necks long and extendedstretching to reach the Carolinasfrom their home in the Arctic,it was all she could do to get by.  And then she...

​Alongside ice mountainscreated by the fury of wind and wavesthere is a silence that stills the heart’s agonyso that one might noticethe lone eagle glidingoverheadand for that momentbe a child againand fly alongside.

​With my one good hand I type an email to my Republican congressman to thank himfor standing unitedwith the presidentwith Ukrainewith NATOwith all democraciesincluding oursfighting to survivean invasionby a predatorso commonit is has become invisiblelike the PFAS in...

Seven miles apartphones in handsa mother in the flatlandsedging the citydaughter in the forestof the dunesswapping similesto describe evening skieslike the blush of a magnoliawings of a fluttering monarcheggs in the nest of a robin petals of a long-spur violetspray of...

The rumbling, though far in the distance, triggersa quickening of my heart and I grip the paddle, remembering when things did not go well, when I was deceived by the glassy surface of the waterconcealing the perils beneath the swift-flowing river;when I smashed into...

The moon at dawn over western skies. So many things to check off the list, the stuff of life that overwhelms, consumes, depletes. You know what I mean. I have lived my life defined by what I do, but there are moments too powerful to ignore; like the time the full moon...

​Sleeping Bear Dunes Earlier this month, I was looking for inspiration, something to remind me to find the patches of robin-egg blue in a sky often layered with darkness. I remembered a group of women I met two years ago, before COVID, women across religions,...

A red, green and white Christmas embroidery hangsyear-round in her living room. Long, narrow, it spells out a word she says occasionally as we slog through our daily exercise routine;  one written frequently, she tells me, in her journal; a three-letter word to which...

While I am on sabbatical this year taking writing and poetry classes, I thought I'd step briefly into the public domain to share my poem, Jane Tree Corner. Earlier this month, Rubin, my sister, Kath, and I travelled to Albuquerque for the Memorial Service for mother’s...

As the splendor of summer unfolds, I am reminded why Rubin and I moved to Michigan sixteen years ago. Take a few minutes to watch what happens when the lens of my camera accompanies award-winning singer/songwriter Ruth Bloomquist. I hope the combination lifts your...