Outside my bedroom window
I hear the wind

Teasing at the leaves
Like a lover Read more »

On the road
I’m driving
Barely nothing
Between me
And the mortal coil Read more »

Foolish, he thinks
But doesn’t say
Out loud;

To the girl
With poems
In her head Read more »

All Night Blues

I’ve heard his voice,
roughed up
by the lyrics of living,
sung out and sweating
between sets;
taking a smoke
and slugging a beer
to soothe his weary chords. Read more »

He spoke French

Which I didn’t know Read more »

I admit it: I’m hopelessly besotted with the moon. The moon, in all its phases, makes me feel safe and secure and loved and a little bit sexy and wild, but most importantly, it makes me feel like I belong where ever I am that the moonbeams are falling. Of course, that is all times a gazillion when that baby is full and staring down at me from on high like a lover about to swoop in for the swoon. Read more »

In honor of tonight’s full moon …

She practices French
While washing her hair
— Thinks life is that short.

Takes a lover — Read more »

You and I
Cool and dark
In the blind Read more »