Mother Once a Native American man told me that if you lie face down  with head pointed north and feet pointed south the earth mother would accept any grief  in your heart                       cleansing you, freeing                   … Read More

Releasing Roots I pull out Mama’s earrings From the tangle of jewelry In the re-used coconut butter jar, Gently pressing them  Into the ears that  She pierced with an icy potato And a thin-pained needle When I was 11 years old.  They were her favorites And though she taught me That earrings don’t have to… Read More

For my mama on her 67th Birthday My Mama taught me When I was 5 weeks old, my father was killed in a car accident, my mama tried not to be sad when she nursed me, so I would not be sad, my mama taught me: Today is the day- to laugh, to learn, to… Read More

Freedom with a Roof At age 18 in January of our Senior year in high school my boyfriend Mike and I were chomping at the bit to get out on our own. We both grew up in Santa Clara Valley as the orchards were starting to disappear. We both had jobs in the tech industry… Read More

  Strange Fall Other years Autumn  Means  First the poison oak leaves flame a brilliant red,  while the mountain maple blazes yellow. Usually the thrumming cricket chorus thins to a few hardy soloists when the morning and evening’s chill  signals winter’s shadow  hiding around the slipping sunshine. This year the talk of drought and global… Read More

The Re-gift      I first met Nicki while moving in across the way from her house. Our children were both ready to launch from the nest, and my family was realizing a long held dream of relocating into the mountains. We loved that the house was at the end of a dirt road with… Read More

  I have been given such gifts words choke in my throat as I reach, I stretch, bend and shake toward expressing the utter astonishment the deep wonder the overpowering gratitude at this moment I am  awake Read More

Baby Girl Downstairs in the open loft apartment, I hear above me my daughter and her husband and my new grandbaby  having one of those rapturous conversations that involve  cooing and squeaks soft-voiced tender words and, sweet giggles and chuckles that wrap the love  of the deep presence with and around  this moment. That Alive, … Read More

Grampa’s hands      Grampa had sparkly brown eyes that simply shone when he told stories about his postal delivery days, or launched into a dramatic recitation of a favorite poem. He had a full head of hair that he kept neatly trimmed, and he dressed as dapper gentle men of his day did-  never… Read More

  My father grew up in a Irish-catholic family of 9, In the city of San Francisco, so his comfort food was usually canned- he would say “creamy” and I would say “mushy.” Later, I would barely recognize the diarrhea green spinach, the small skinless egg potatoes, the orangish spaghetti-Os and pungent Dinty-Moore stew that… Read More