Dec 31 2011



On the last day of 2011

I’m not at all sure what it means

when you find a burned out sign

on a telephone pole.


And I’m even less sure what it means

when there is an eleven on that pole.


I am, however,

perfectly ready and willing

to find out.


Here’s to endings

and beginnings,

here’s to you,

and here’s to

looking forward

to the journey

of 2012.


Happy New Year.



Dec 30 2011

dear me…
{reverb11 – day 30}


Write a letter to yourself about how you would like your life to be
different at this time next year.


savor every first sip.


{reverb11} check it out here {resound11} check it out here

Dec 28 2011

five things…
{reverb11 – day 28}


Take today to jot down five memories that
you would like to never forget about 2011



two days after george died, i walked outside looking for his naughty kitten brother, late, in the dark. i picked a pink flower from the cosmo plant standing tall in the night and made my way down the driveway to the spot where we found him. i found it easily, although i could see nothing. the stone we placed as his marker somehow reflected just enough light to guide me to it. i stood there, crying in the black warmth that is a july night and bent down to place a single bloom on the darkest spot, the stain of his blood. i stood there and let the breeze play over my bare legs, listening.  holding my breath. hoping. of course, he was not there, and i do not believe in ghosts. when i turned to go back inside, there were fireflies everywhere, dancing in the darkness like stars.


i ran the uphill half of my path and it was a good run, i felt strong and sated, alive and oh so happy to be running again. it was a warm day, warmer than it should have been in autumn, but those have always been my favorite running conditions, and this day was almost perfect. no one else was on the path, it was me and the trees and the sun and the rhythmic sound of my own breath filled my head with a meditative calm. dappled shade, bright light, dappled shade, the pattern of my steps, the counting off of miles, the sweat that glistened as it washed away the stress. when i stopped to cool down and walk the last half mile, i heard a bird call that i recognized somewhere in the recesses of my mind, but at first, could not exactly place. And then i saw one, and then another, and then a flock. cedar waxwings, perched on branches like so many leaves. i kept walking quietly, smiling loudly.


an august afternoon in which i played hooky, sneaking out to sit in the sun with a book and a glass of wine, a journal and a pencil, words flying off my fingers like sparks. then sitting quietly, the sun on my face, birds chirping in the background, red-winged blackbirds especially, complaining of my presence. hot, hot sun, flowers everywhere, bugs and beetles and dragonflies buzzing all around, bare feet and the trickle of sweat. time hung in the air with nowhere to go, no place to be but there, in that moment, absorbing light and sound and heat and just a tiny bit of memory from carefree childhood summers.


a winter that would not end, hibernation becoming stir-crazy, cabin fever becoming nothing but the desire to feel the sun upon my skin. darkness that became too dark, all promises of light, broken. snow that piled on top of snow, no longer pretty and glittery and wondrous, just heavy and grey. grey on grey on grey. endless days of grey. days that turned to weeks and then months. the lack of contrast is what drives you mad.


an almost invisible shift in the night. hours spent with eyes wide open, the moon rap-tapping on dirty panes, a signal to the loneliness that is driven by insomnia. sighs and repositioning, sighs and thoughts of getting out of bed to do something, anything, at least write. imaginary whispers that say nothing, but keep me straining to hear. words that walk their way down empty hallways, peeking through keyholes, checking for just the right fit. this room is filled with sounds of love. this room is filled with heartbeats and the echoes of sobs. this room has stories of its own to tell. this room is more awake than i am.



{reverb11} check it out here {resound11} check it out here

Dec 27 2011

well, it’s alright…
{reverb11 – day 27}


Everything is going to be okay.

What is one thing, a sign if you will, that has shown you
that things will be just fine in 2012?


there will be first sips of tea each morning

birds will sing because they can

time will win another round
but when it tries to sucker punch me (again)
i will duck and smile

there will be books that transport me to places unknown

socks to sort and papers to file

somewhere, babies will be smiling
and discovering their toes

loss will settle in and wait to take its turn

tears will map out new courses on old cheeks

giggles will become guffaws

sniffles will become colds

pain will become scars

basements will flood and faucets will drip

the mockingbird will pretend
and i will let him make me believe

i will run my way to a place i’ve never been

words will be written that mean everything and nothing

trees will blossom and leaves will fall

seeds will form

hands will be held

the moon will call my name

i will open my eyes on new wonders

every day



{reverb11} check it out here  {resound11} check it out here
and also:
this post is part of dVerse poets Open Link Night join us!

Dec 26 2011

{reverb11 – day 26}


Name one gift that 2011 gave you; what treasure
came your way gift wrapped in experience?


among other things,

there was this:

venus, the moon,

and a husband

who knows

how much

i would love

to see them.


{reverb11} check it out here

Dec 23 2011

from my heart…


to yours…

wishing you peace

and joy

and light.


Dec 22 2011

{reverb11 – day 22}


If you could quit your day job and your quality of life
wouldn’t change, what would you do?







{reverb11} check it out here

Dec 21 2011

{reverb11 – day 21}



What did you believe in this year?


i believe

in smiles and broken hearts

in dancing in the moon circus

in hope

in today

in walking the path less traveled

in forgiveness

that i know nothing

in love

in summer and tomatoes

in silence

that mountains make me whole

in death

that my garden feeds my soul

that writing feeds my soul

that not all empty spaces are meant to be filled

in looking to the sky

that someday i will soar

there is never enough, there is always too much

normal is just a notion

kindness is the cornerstone of love

you have to pay attention

i prefer questions to answers

in pushing the limits

hemingway is still my favorite writer

hugs are free and also invaluable

life is not supposed to be easy, it’s supposed to be lived

i need to stand up and be counted

i occasionally suffer from wiggly spirit

i am surrounded by heroes

that i will always miss george

i will never love mirrors

love doesn’t have to be perfect to survive

my parents are the best

there is both more and less time than you think

i’m a romantic at heart, an idealist by nature
and a purist by design
except sometimes i’m not any of those things
and sometimes i am their opposites

some days are red, some days are blue


i believe that being alive is a gift

i believe that being grateful for every breath you take
is the only way to say thank you

i believe in so much and so little, all at once.


these are all ideas or lines from my posts this year



{reverb11} check it out here

Dec 20 2011

{reverb11 – day 20}


What kind of a friend do you want to be in 2012?


i could be

a better friend

to almost


i know.



i’m going to

sit by this fire

and be a better


to myself.


{reverb11} check it out here

Dec 20 2011


the day you swept my heart out to sea

the sun hung in the sky like a beacon

always the point i could not reach.


i swam through a safety net full of

holes as sharks bruised my legs

but left me to my misery.


salt water tears mingled with

fresh water expectations and

kept me afloat despite my desire

to sink

into the depths of disillusion.


years later, a raft floated by.


i could have reached out and

hoisted myself onto

that sparse, dry bed but

instead, i closed my eyes,

bobbing, skating, skimming

the surface of my




this post is part of dVerse poets Open Link Night join us!