Neil.  09.08.2015

What a strange place to be Sending intermittent thoughts Small prayers to ‘wasband’ he who was my husband On the untimely but not altogether unexpected death of his brother, Cornelius “Neal”   Named for their father   late last week, diseased liver and rattled core gave up and ghosted him to the other side younger…

Tongue Tithed.

Is there a word that just plain annoys you? My friend and I had a discussion the other day and they confessed (a bit too enthusiastically) that “moist”, “gleaming” and “awesome” are their peeve words. To each their own. Mine are the overuse and lack of respect from “guys”.  “Hey, guys!” is used by everyone…

Welcome Mat. May 26, 2015.

Someone to come home to.  What a novel idea.   Why didn’t I think of this sooner? Singlehood and I have been a haphazard pair going on 13 years next month.  Twice I seriously tried to cut bait and try a new, real, partner but neither of us were ready.  So, we have rabbleroused and…

Destination. May 26, 2015

Heading north this morning. I try not to say “heading home”; leaving here is leaving home, and so is leaving there.   I come home to both places.  A life not divided but widened by space and time, and the exciting horizon of possibilities for all of us.   #charlottesville #amtrak #alwaysheadinghome

Pre-Launch. (Journal entry. 8 April 2015)

Him: “Looove your wild, plaid poncho!” He is shepherding his two wiggly small people into their way-too-big mini-van; one of whom, the smaller, has dashed out behind the car between our cars–the driver trying to back out of her space, thankfully aware of the dasher, who has been dragged back by his father to the…

Winter Blanket. March 18, 2013. [Poem]

  It is a falling-asleep sound snow turning unheard to blustery icy tiny cannonballs against the panes separated by damask curtains of black and white we go about our evening alterations one to blanket one blanketed both to rest a spell one to melt one to manifest desires and epiphanies in tomorrow’s light. DJD 2013

Salt Breathing. [Loose poem]

Old stomping ground. Exhale Hill, as it is known by those of us who move away from that wide open big water and miniscule cliffside life. water methodists and whalers yachtsmen gossips artists the faithful and the bedhoppers claythrowers gemworkers taverners dutiful counselors It all seems so endless when you are there, going about the…