Holding Hands

Our street is short and mostly treeless. The dry dust of summer kicks up and assails our noses. As soon as we turn the corner we are in the shade and our walk, though uphill, is cooler. Along the edges of the road random wildflowers bloom. We let the children pick whatever they want. One day we find a turtle in the middle of the road and relocate it away from danger. Another time we spot a garter snake but we leave it alone. 

the sweetness
of bee balm on my fingers
with scented fern
on yours

haikuKATHA Issue 9

July 22, 2022


A very young me wanted to be a writer. That was seven decades ago.  At some point I decided to become a nurse instead. Soon I found caregiving to be all consuming and writing took a back seat …..for about fifty years.  One day, my life was turned upside down and I found I had to pick up my pen again.  It seems I have been on a long, long trip and now I have come home. 

my busy hands
wash and fold laundry 
all morning 
while a love poem writes itself
inside my head


April 22, 2022