Hey you!

it’s the first day of school!

IMG_0019Kim, 11th grade

East Anchorage High School

photoKeelin, 8th grade

Anchor Lutheran

August 21, 2013


Published in: on August 21, 2013 at 4:38 pm  Leave a Comment  


gratitudePush start, to start.

Washing dishes for twelve, days looking through glass

with a window over the sink,

and blooms below.

Hang it up, hang

with steam rising from the iron,

the window air conditioner humming in my ear,

reruns on the television,

permanent press.

Hot water in the bath,

not from the stove,

boiling diapers, hanging them to dry.

clothes in the tub, dripping.

a stove, to cook.

No hot plate, no water in a plastic jug for a bath.

A stove, to cook.

Heat on.

Food in.

Lights through.


linked to imperfect prose

Published in: on June 25, 2013 at 1:50 pm  Comments (1)  
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A mad housewife

with a perfect pie.

Four years ago,

seems so long now.

It was time to do or die?


The secret is  out,

never shrinking or too brown,

with no one to speak,

that was all the news there was,

even in this busy town.

But, that was the last time

my mom would ever know me,

Watching Kung Fu Panda, eating dinner,

 nothing left to take its place,

nothing left for me to see.

Published in: on November 22, 2012 at 10:04 pm  Leave a Comment  
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First there were four

and then there were three.

Now there are two

on the first day of school.

Kim 10th grade

Keelin 7th grade

August 22, 2012

Published in: on August 22, 2012 at 10:01 pm  Leave a Comment  

Hanging on by a thread…


the price is right.

but it needs some length.


and since you’re only 14,

let’s cover up a bit more.

All ready!

coffee, tea or me?

Yes, you.

You’re the one.

Published in: on January 10, 2012 at 1:14 pm  Comments (3)  
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Small places

quiet spaces.

Empty faces

upon my return.

Sitting tight

waiting with all

my might

to turn empty faces

Back toward those

small places.

Published in: on January 3, 2012 at 7:03 pm  Comments (2)  
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quilt R square…

Pi are round…

Published in: on December 29, 2011 at 4:20 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Bricks and mortar,

each one in the assigned place.

Deceptive in appearance,

turning ’round  a different face.

Bricks and mortar,

lining up to bring about.

Coming in…going out

some of a lifetime is left to shout.


Published in: on December 12, 2011 at 11:15 pm  Leave a Comment  
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I don’t believe in blessings…

granted by  Grace of some god on high.

For someone to say they are blessed


they are more worthy of fortune

than you or I.

When things go well, we like to say

we’re blessed with all we hold.

Those dying, starving, abused, unwanted

a god

doesn’t bless them?

if I may be so bold!

Looking past my dirty window to a

world of pink and gold,

is a wider path,

more divergent lives

those stories which need to be told.

My mom would always say, “There, but for the Grace of god, go I.”

and then would angrily point out my Sin

When I simply asked, “god wasn’t very Graceful,

was he,

when he did all that to them?”

If feeling blessed makes some feel better,

no argument will come from me,

except to say,

Look around, take it all in

and for once,


know it’s time to really see.

Published in: on November 20, 2011 at 8:52 pm  Comments (5)  
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floating triangles…

Published in: on November 19, 2011 at 12:02 pm  Comments (1)  
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No voice has she…

Looking close,

I think this could be me!

A moment of silence

A thought without speech.

Never forget,

It’s all within your reach.

Published in: on November 1, 2011 at 11:40 pm  Leave a Comment  
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on the first day of school

from preschool

’til now

each year showing more gray hair,

longer legs

time closer to being

out that door!

August 16th, 2011

German Chocolate Cake

Always sings happy birthday to me.

My grandmother always made one,

made it from scratch,

just for me to see.

German Chocolate Cake

marks the years as they go by.

One cake, two cakes,

birthdays, gifts and wrinkles, oh my!

There are bugs among us…

pushing against the glass

to drop and wait

Not clever enough

to take a place in line.


stay hidden

among the Greens.

They didn’t

notice the new growth


from last winter,

or detect

the camouflage,

to stay unseen.

so they remain


and never stand out

to experience

the joy of being the

one to survive.




The accoutrements


Representing  pain.

Growth in an underbrush


aluminum and plastic with

tight-fitting healing.

Knowing that if I had just held on,

the Statistics of loss

would not be so




Hey my golden girl…

I put some gold up for you,

hoping life would be gold all around.


I can’t get you good teachers.

They just can’t seem to be found.

I didn’t want you in those rooms,

when they show such lack of respect.

Is it too much to ask for,

that you are worth more than those “things”

just right below your neck?

PE posters in your school state, “I’ll shave your legs, then I’ll shave your butt.”

Tell me these people

think you are worthy of only one thing

and it’s an age-old, age-old rut.

You are worth more–let’s learn it well this year.

Because if you cannot–


will be very hard, I fear.


Is that why they call it puppy love?

A decade


Romance books,

McBurgler valentines threatening to steal you away

pinned on bulletin boards.

New dresses for dances,

empty promises of love.


A loss…

when I didn’t even know the thoughts existed.

Gone now, I can’t think the same any more.

Who knew?  I ask myself,

turning inside out and outside in

was simply something I use to be able to do?

A loss…

so I will settle for less than perfect and take

the final step away.

To say, it’s good enough

To put it in the mail

and send it on its way.


small, braided rug for Burton’s birthday.

A little wonky, without the outside butted edge.



Published in: on January 17, 2011 at 7:36 am  Comments (1)  
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This is not what I want to do…

right now.

The view changes only in color,

with content replicated daily.

I’m on hold…

by my own design,

with small increments leading,

to an undefined topography

of  impending resolution.

I hope it will have been worth the wait.



Published in: on January 6, 2011 at 4:00 am  Comments (5)  
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