This month has been pretty tough, so I'd like to end it on a note as soft as silver seeds and starry wishes. Here's a partial sneak peek at the cover of my poetry collection, Tangible Creatures, created by the stelliferous Elizabeth Pinborough!
Saturday, November 30, 2024
Tangible Creatures Cover-Sneak Peek!
Thursday, November 14, 2024
The Story We Tell Ourselves
Growing up, I believed in a Star Trek future. That humanity would one day overcome their flaws and build a kinder world. But sometimes that glimmering reality feels frayed as a thread that has almost snapped from our grasp forever as my confused roses bloom merrily in November.
Why do I write anything, anymore? I wonder. Maybe in the end the one we most want to tell a lovely story is our self. I don't think I have ever shared this poem before. I wrote it many years ago.
Saturday, October 12, 2024
Night Roses
A poem found a home!
Night Roses
Night roses are better
than day blossoms—
unable to dazzle with
petal frill and flush,
sunlit senses must trade
eye light for the silk-soft
brush of shape in the dark,
perfume stirred sweet
by evening shadows,
and the quiet flutter
of flower bodies in time
with the twinkle
of starlight.
*Originally published in Northern Narratives 2024, p. 58.



