Echos of light reflect rugged beauty.
Silent walls of rock carved by glaciers,
mirror themselves in ancient seas.

We sail, necks craned,
staring, gaping in awe.

Awareness dawns
in setting sun.

We are but specks
on the scales of time.


Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets where Monday’s quadrille (4o word poem, no more no less) prompt is to include the word echo within our poem. Photos from recent Norwegian Fjords cruise. 


Like a feral cat slinking through shadows
the nondescript waif seeks his prey,
crosses to busy street, jostles crowds.
Nudge and dip. Nudge and dip.
The two-step pick-a-pocket waltz.

Wallet trashed, enters corner butcher shop
whistling a tricky tune.
Sustenance savored, emerges,
mustard rivulets on chin and wrist.
Sits on bench, licks fingers and smiles.

Yellow eyed languid cat prowls neath boy,
rubs against too short pant legs.
Drops half-eaten rodent on littered ground
curls inward atop boy’s left foot
and basks in sun.

Photos taken yesterday in Lisbon – older men in neighborhood; graffiti on city wall. Beautiful city! Lisbon, Portugal dates back to the 6th century. 


My lineage lies in bleached bones,
ash commingled with soil and sea.

I am the living
happily paired,
wed forty-seven years
progressing still.

Mother of two
grandmother of five.
Eleven total
in raucous revelry.

This crowded world
my species’ millions
and millions more,
multiplied by the unknown.

In the midst of all,
I savor oneness.
Scraps of solitude
contemplative discovery,

and recovery.
Sips of silence
to be and to know
who and what is me.

Posted from Bermuda. We are in midst of TransAtlantic crossing and will not have access to Internet for five days. I shall post again from Lisbon.


My hands caress
use opposable thumbs.
Yours do that,
and also shoot guns.

I bask in the sun
nurture my young.
You do that,
and stockpile guns.

I sit in here
looking out at you.
You stand out there
looking in at me.

I see your face
your hands
your feet,
so like me.

So why am I the one
locked in here,
you out there
staring at me.


Photos taken at the San Diego Zoo. I can stand for hours looking at the gorillas – they mesmerize me. I’m hosting dVerse today, the virtual pub for poets, asking folks to anthropomorphize within today’s poem. Give an animal or object human characteristics such that it behaves like a human. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time — come on over and anthropomorphize with us! 

Whose Child?

I am your global child.
Barefoot puddle splasher
hand outstretched, ghostly smile,
sunken-eyed innocence.

I live in your cities.
Under bridges, in alleyways
on your streets.

Blessed are those . . .
which those?

See me. Hear me.
Offer me
a morsel of hope.

Quadrille (44 words, not including title) for dVerse where Kim asks us to use the word or a form of the word “ghost.” DVerse, (the virtual pub for poets) opens with today’s prompt at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!

Sea Glass Beatitude

Shards tumbled, churned.
Misshapened shapes
amber, green, clear.
Once broken, glint in sun
smoothed by roiling seas.

Are these but reminders
of those who washed ashore?
See me. Know me.
Value lies
in that which is made anew.


Bermuda sea glass. Bermuda was originally an uninhabited island. All Bermudians are either immigrants or descendants of immigrants. There are no indigenous peoples.


Hear the guttural call
a loon in the midst of porous fog.
Tall ships tack ‘gainst angry waves
sails unfurled defying blowhard wind.
Sturdy spruce dig in, roots entangled,
stand valiantly in permafrost.

Voices merge, rise from depths,
like dawning sun they swell.
Their magnitude undeniable,
push their way
gain strength and energy,
overcome darkened skies

You cannot dim her torch
it shines her promise for the many.
Those who passed her by in awe
eyes raised, hearts knowing
hope lives and shall


People . . .

Some exhale fresh air
with every breath.
Others spew pollution
from every pore.

Some sow smiles
like Johnny planted trees.
Others hurl thunderbolts
of anger and fear.

Some believe in we
live in the our.
Others tout two,
us versus them.

Some stand tall
no matter their stature.
Others think small
no matter their height.

Some people hope
as they pray for the others.
Willing the others
compassion for all.


Shared with dVerse OLN today….the virtual pub for poets. Everyone is invited to share one poem of their choosing. Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join the fun! Photo in public domain.

Sunshine the world . . .

unfurl hope
march, sing
stand resolute and tall.

Answer the call
to freedom this world,
compassion for all.

A second verbification poem for dVerse today. Using nouns as verbs — sunshine and freedom. Saturday, January 21, 2017. First day of a global movement that has the potential for immense power. Photos from Boston’s Women’ Walk for America which included 100,000+ women, men and children. dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Come join us!