Black and White Whiskered Sonnet

Gray exists in abstract feature and lines It can never be the lover of true The dope is blackness and white for the times Their hearts doth lie with definitive stew The sisters lay in dual existence In dark inkiness and the soft of snow Whiskers twitching in muscle’s common sense The cautious, darting almond eyes aglow Twins in no-color shades of ying and yang Essence of tuxedos in voices raised Demands of attention is their harangue The worth ofRead more

I am white

I am white. I don’t know what it’s like To fear Discrimination, bigotry, name-calling, death under a knee I am white Brought up in a white community With white friends I don’t know what it’s like To feel how you feel To live your existence To have a history of constant oppression and special rules Fighting, protesting for survival I am white I have been privileged In ways I still don’t understand My fear is different and now feels likeRead more

The Working Girl’s Purse

The last “mom” post was in August, when she turned 99. Not much has happened since, other than she keeps eating, drinking coffee and taking lots of naps. She’s having a hard time holding her head up as this is one of the effects of dementia – her brain is forgetting to tell her body what to do. When I visit, I never know if she is going to be alert or have a sleepy day. The most recent visitRead more

Pauline’s Dream Revised

Back in August, 2014, I wrote a poem called Pauline’s Dream. You can read it HERE. For the Day 5 poetry challenge of Fog/Elegy/Metaphor, I chose to rewrite this poem and the words, but tell the same story. For those of you who are not regular readers, my mom is 95 and suffers from the effects of dementia. When Ben suggested fog as a mental state, this was a natural response. This is the place of my dreams, but itRead more