y The moon is up Reflecting the Sun you squandered Are you happy At peace I wonder I wonder

Photo by Simon Berger from Pexels March is here Breath Movement Warmth Grace upon grace Me the fool the fraud iniquitous coward...

Photo by David McEachan from Pexels Your Word came each vowel and syllable sharpened and right with precision, you cut me open and with...

What do we know of love We tarry in slums When we should run We fight shadows We succumb

Dear thirty-three, you arrived quietly on a Sunday morning. Sunday happens to be my favorite day of the week. Of all the billions of...

Dear Thirty-two, Today is our last day together. It is true I would have painted you inside a more idyllic frame. You were a gift that...

Dear Mother's, This open letter is born out of my observations and conversations with family and friends who are mothers. It is the...

When I was a child, summer was the season where the sunshine was plentiful, and the possibilities were endless. While the way I spend my...

The world around me with all its shapes, textures, colors, dimensions and sounds turned sour. A wild ringing of white hazy light and...

There was a desperate longing in her to be Not just to exist as others were content to exist but to be What are the words that should go...