not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Monday, February 17, 2020

Saturday, February 15, 2020

At Home with Disquiet

This is both a surprise to me and an honour. So much has come to pass for all of us, I'm sure, over the years, since we first met one another through blogging. There's been loneliness, friendship, death, grief, childbirth, marriage— in other words, life. So much has happened! I couldn't have imagined it!

This last year has presented me with the most amazing opportunity to work with Jean Huets of Circling Rivers to put together what has become my debut collection of poetry. I owe a debt of gratitude to Jean for her tireless efforts. (Believe me, it takes so much more work to put a book together than I ever might have suspected!) I owe a debt of gratitude to the generous writers and editors who took time from their busy lives to read and endorse this compilation. In no particular order, thank you Brian Brett, Francesca Bell, Nina Murray, Abbie Copeland and Roger Mitchell.  And I owe a debt of gratitude to you folks who listened to me here, who were kind to me, and nurtured me through a great many of life's events. I smile. I'm not even sure if anyone might be listening any more, but with the greatest thanks I introduce this little piece of myself, At Home with Disquiet.

It will officially be released on March 24th of this year, but Jean tells me it can be pre-ordered from Amazon (in the United States and in Canada) and from Barnes & Noble (in the States), if anyone is so inclined. And if not my book, please, seek out these other dynamic writers. They deserve attention.

And my goodness, I hope you are well!

(If you click the book cover you will find it at for pre-order and if you click here, at If anyone wants to get in touch, I can be reached at

Thursday, February 6, 2020

winter flowers iii.


some months ago I rescued these roses from the graveyard dumpster

 for many weeks the strong scent of decay interrupted me as I passed

did I rescue the roses?

or were they waiting for winter to rescue me?