Wednesday, August 3, 2016


I want to inscribe an image onto your mind.
Placing the words, with a #2's precision,
On the surface of your psyche. 
Witness it's slow absorption into your consciousness. 

I'd like to breathe words into the emptiness of the hard morning air 
before the sun burns the chill from the streets and millions begin the day across the city. 

I want to hum a melody to entrance you. 
One that will slide it's way into the crevices of your mind, 
on a string of repeating notes and syllables.  

But I am paralyzed by the threat of failure
And sleep overtakes me far too easily instead. 

Monday, August 1, 2016

I Am A Mother

I am a mother. 

That really eclipses most everything else about me. Should it? No, not necessarily. It does, nonetheless. 

What else am I?

I am an artist. 
I am a writer. 
I am a lover of theater. 
I am a pacifist. 
I am a music lover. 
I am a reader. 
I am a communicator. 

Davis begins the first grade of school on August 17th. I am going to miss his shenanigans. I am going to miss his love of cuddling. I am going to miss his bright morning smile, which will slowly be replaced by a reluctance to rise and get on with the work of being a student. 

I am looking forward to renewing my relationship with myself. It HAS been 6 years. Let's see what kind of trouble I can get into...