Bit Player

Have landed – actually, volunteered for – a supporting role intended fun, but comedy eluded, am fighting for a life fearful choreography exacting a cathartic script haywire admission of fault my memory fails positions me, in brief spurts, faltering co-performers push encourage, emanate loving commitment buy into mania my cause: avoidance beyond distraction I miss […]


eyes wide with wonderment fix on me, beseeching attention rosebud lips part in genuine glee when my coveted gaze meets hers she tilts her peach fuzz head and with a shrug of a shoulder expresses a learned coyness, a treasured cuteness, softening this old woman’s jaded edges clumsy, chubby fingers reach, fumble, eventually grasp their […]


If life was an English class I’d enroll again for high school, concentrate on the editing, hope to gain something the second time through I’d excel at the assignments – experience adds so much maturity to the written word – and teachers would deliberate and decide that I don’t belong, and where would that leave […]

Passion Exposed

Seduced – the virility of youth irresistible even for an old duck like me –  so unexpected, relentless, I ignore exhaustion lean into the fantasy, allow desire to embrace me, cross a boundary, surrender… step up to the stage, bare-chested, shameless, speak into the mic, reveal my words: those childlike bits of myself; hope my […]

Aging Relationships

Some say I’m away – spun out of control: the dissolution of so many years of denial. With restlessness I circle male species, perspective skewed by parental fray; have sweetness to offer, ripeness – opposition’s grip extinguishing marketability we are all crazy, our seasons passed, preferring the nests we’ve built to new family ties fear […]

Clearing Corners

No more out-on-the-town bustles – the late afternoon light fading in my corner – focus now turned to higher issues; try to keep company with mindfulness – a worthy educator, facilitating release – but my inventory is too spun. Achieving a semblance of completion, something to reflect my life’s toil, would be welcome, yet I […]

Black Madonna

Remember that autumn we drove up to Campbell River, like teenagers skipping out of class – a cackle of women, spirituality forming – felt as if we had bided our time, willing this union to occur – high on anticipation. Giddy that our routine femininity had been strewn across the barricades of our socially careful existences […]