Monthly Archives: April 2012



Lying in bed this morning,

ready to begin the day,

listening to wind rock branches,

roar against the screen,

I groaned, rolled over

to hide underneath the pillow.

Then, remembering Mary Oliver’s words

about West Wind tantalizing the roses,

irritation blew away as I imagined

tender roses, wispy winter twigs,

bare lilacs, emerging crocus,

shuddering under the electric caress

of a forceful lover.


Later, walking in my windbreaker,

I swear I heard the naked mulberry tree

cry out in ecstasy

while her grandfather elm blushed

across the street.

Monday Mornings

Monday Mornings

How dare they expect me to

        show up on time

        remember which office is mine

        answer questions with accuracy

        provide friendly service

        make sound decisions

        file charts alphabetically

        apply therapeutic skills…


when it is hard enough

to remember my own name

after leaving all of it behind

on Friday at 4:00

for sixty-four hours

of nothing but freedom