Browse Topics

Grandmother

The sky and trees, reflected once in the creek, are reflected again in my thoughts. These are not the black trees written on a light gray sky that small black words bring to mind. But, green and living, they stretch to grasp the sun, lobsterlike in living claws.

Selected Poems

Fecundity/Nature &/Or

The happy people with big hips and watery lips pulled up by the river and sat down, spent. There trout bubbled at them, trees shaded and grass waved.

Women’s Poetry

For we have only begun to express how we see the world. And after our angers have risen and spent themselves, and we have made peace with our deepest and feminine selves, we can settle down to getting the world written and into print.

Coin

Chapel Hill Journal

The dust of sham recognition settled over the furniture where I should move about. Do I stir it and sneeze, or move so delicately that only molecules will notice me?

Chorus

A Poem For My Friend, Star

Transitions

I can live almost anywhere but my relationship with the animals and flora determine if I am at home there. The vibrations of any home, whether in city or countryside, are affected by the life that cohabits with us. And surely the quality of any life indicates and determines the quality of all life.