My daughter shoved her finger at a photo of my mom. “Gigi is up,” she asserted, a story I hadn’t told her.
My mom’s voice echoed, believe in miracles.
That night, darkness unfolded from dusk and I saw her shining among stars.
Try. Try again.
Don't die before your death
Can you hear the silence?
Trying to avoid society's pigeonholes
Poems From My Heart
Writer. Speaker. Author.
Exploring open roads without breaking the bank
Words - Wit - Wine - Whatever
Critical. Crazy. Catastrophic.
frightfully wondrous things happen here.
Heifetz's fits on teaching, writing, the woods, and other miscellanea
Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.
Unfolding From the Fog (or What I Think About When I Walk My Dog)
and we put them back together
Sharing my heart without strings...
micropoetry for the people
SIMPLE, INTENTIONAL LIVING
Sabbles woz 'ere
Not All Who Wander Are Lost -- Tolkien