Our Communion

The coffee made early morning rests cold in the french press. Waiting our communion Not myself and the coffee, yet all the parts of me circled in grand reunion. Small me with strawberry pants and Tonka Truck carrying Barbie in tow. Chubby me squeezed into tights and taken to dance to explore life as the…

Patterning a Calmer Pace

Remind me how to slow down she said, because I desperately wish to move slower. So slow I feel the tips of my feathers as they touch into the wet grain of this riverside. So slow that many winters of woodsmoke are released when I walk. My feet golden coals in no hurry to burn….

I Don’t Ever Want to Forget

Walking the fields gathering evergreen and vine remembering how we’d wander directionless picking flowers and sticks to feed the hungry stove and whatever else caught our eye. We’d fall to the ground after a while as two animals out wandering should easy in our bodies. How you’d quiet the demands of the world. Together we’d…

It Happens Just Like That

It happens just like that Leaves lush and spilling forth covering us in spring’s abundance. Now baked golden and swirling in our breath Lapping autumn pools like a moon belly growing wide and wise in the year. It happens just like that Your small fur body, warm at home in my hand Now buried beneath…

Finding My Very Own Way to Grieve

I spent some time going back through the grieving practices of my family when I was small and into adulthood when I realized I hadn’t spent time finding my very own way to grieve. Thanks to The Porch Magazine for sharing these words reflecting that journey. Finding My Very Own Way to Grieve Published through…

Moving With October’s Shadow…

Sitting with the dark, watching for my shadow. Old friend. Arch Nemesis. Keeper of Secrets. Divine holder of all the parts that didn’t fit and find their way, all the flickerings and warm connections that most certainly did. That move with me in the subtle motion of my hips, that shine through like gold belly…

Four Little Words…

Four little words. A number I’ve long held as fortuitous. Unsuspecting pairs woven together by chance. Once the number inscribed on my catcher’s jersey. Later something I’d count off the letters to words in pairs while walking or waiting, counting passing street signs, cracks in the sidewalk. Grouping them together into 1,2,3 4 to study…

New Collection of Poetry, Letters for Tallulah

I’m so grateful to be able to share that after eight months of editing and layout, my completed collection of 35 poems written over the course of the last three years are now available in Letters for Tallulah. Many poems from my former collection Soft With Me are included as well as 15 new pieces…

Talking Life, Creative Process, and Work in Progress on the Radio…

I recently sat down to talk life, writing, and creativity on the Johanna Patrice Hagarty Show on Biz Radio Asheville. In our half hour conversation, I share stories of growing up nestled in-between a creek and a cotton field in Eastern N.C., publishing my first book with the support of a grant from Haywood County…

Morning Prayer for a Heart Condition (or something like that)

A swell of velvet red rising, warming its way into every facet of you.Feet that carry, firm and unwavering.Hips that hold and twist and bend you forward and over and back.Chest cage open, resting and receptive, fallow in-between the flood of fresh oxygenated bloodLike Princess Scargo’s pond all dried up to four fish.Yet the tears…