Apr 28 2017

at least once a day

as if the sun carried stars
and the moon
danced with shadow

or your smile
meant the joke
it once

the way we wandered
through the streets
of a city left by

holding flowers
in damp palms
limp with longing


May 7 2015

the letting go of hanging on

because shedding your skin
is just as necessary
as gathering hips
for the tea
you sip
from the cup
of yesterday’s




Feb 14 2015

open to love


the best place to be




Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. M.




And Happy Valentine’s Day to you.

Because celebrating love is always a good thing.




Dec 16 2014

the things that outlast us

i have ornaments older than i am
glass as thin as petal
reflecting the history of countless
christmas mornings
and endless summers
hid away
in the dark

more fragile than any egg
yet here they are

still whole


the simple mystery of time
is so damn complicated


but the whispers of love
they are wrapped in
allow them
to survive




Feb 22 2014


whether it arrives head on

in a line straight as time

or comes at you

from all directions

curving gently around each bend


bask in the glow




Feb 15 2014


make your own:

Feb 1 2014

one small truth

I’ll take deep shadows

and the light that causes them

over the blank-faced wall

of forgettable grey

any day.



Nov 1 2013

small stone–
for mindful writing day


november’s first wind

stripping leaves from tall trees

in a violent flurry

of release


there’s still time to join in, details here.

Jul 27 2013

susan’s dance


arms wide open

reach for the light

even when

it blinds you


Jul 18 2013


Already, I find myself taking green for granted.

It’s hot, hot out there, and the landscape has changed from the yellow green of spring to the grey green of summer.

I try to remind myself how much I will crave this green come February, but I also remind myself that human nature drives us forward–always, always–into what’s next. We have such a hard time standing in place and embracing what’s there before us.

I accept this as truth even as I try to change it. I pick bits of time from vine and branch, and savor them like wine. I remind myself how precious every moment is, but just like anything you have enough of, I assume there will always be one more. And another, and another and another.

I try to find the balance between my own pragmatic mind and the ticking of the clock.

And then some days I don’t think about any of this at all, because it’s summer, and really, all I need is to soak up some sunshine.

We are always growing, always setting seed, always reaching for the light. I don’t care so much about trying to control any of it any more, I am happy to just let it happen. I don’t take any path at all, I just wander towards whatever strikes my fancy, with dirty feet and blistered toes.

I always end up in the same place anyway, here, beneath this same old golden sun.

My green eyes match the horizon just now, and if you don’t look too hard, you might not even see me.

But I’ll be out there, wandering, until winter brings me home.