Monthly Archives: August 2020

what a tabby cat knows

it comes over not quite like a squall linebut one of those loomingheaps of cloudsthat slowly moves inand the whole day gets dark maybe it’s just a careless wordthat hurtor maybe it’s that inner voicestuck in fruitless repetitionasking why or how … Continue reading

Posted in cats, compassion, poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

unthinkable

Not gonna lie. This presidential election is a sad commentary on the American people. It is unthinkable that with all the great minds and big hearts in this country of 330 million people, these are the candidates and leaders we … Continue reading

Posted in humanity, politics | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

whimsical whiskers

whimsical whiskersmercurial moods intent observationeyes unwavering tail a’switchingready to pounce slithering sneakinghiding leaping playful rollslaughing jokes reveling in toucheager affection curled in sleeplost to dreams beautiful soulamazing friend 

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carefree

The sails gently pulled us along under sunny Caribbean skies. The piercing blue of the ocean was almost indistinguishable from the heavens above. Always one to be absolutely in the moment, Jim nevertheless took nothing for granted. “June, too soon,” … Continue reading

Posted in creative writing, nature, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

simple

It sounds so simple. It is simple. What if that ethos was fundamental to the human power structures of our globe?

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lullaby

The early morning rain sings softly to me. Like a lullaby, it calls me back toward dreamtime, pulling me there with its whispery voice.  The rain suggests a pause, a delay to the usual commencement of ‘getting things done.’ It … Continue reading

Posted in love, nature, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

curbside

gentle color callsscent of heavenly pleasurenature delivers

Posted in creative writing, poetry, writing | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

revival

The church stood at the edge of the small business district for more than a century. Over the last decade, though, it stood empty. Each year, it grew more derelict. Today, Annie stood at the base of the worn steps. … Continue reading

Posted in creative writing, fiction, writing | Tagged , , , , , | 15 Comments