precocious and coy, she hides behind the guise of innocence while flirting with danger as a ploy for attention that she now has required. 8.31.17

the flux of change redirecting one’s plans like the river diverting its flow without pausing to reconsider its shift. 8.30.17

i enter a former home my children in tow, now with different tenants; a place of comfort and disturbance, bright colors, polished steel, flickering florescence, disinfectant lingering in the air, and the chatter softly everywhere, occasionally broken by a cry. memories return of cold thermometers, freezing bed pans, blood pressure pumps, mysterious pills in plastic …

the demands of life anchor us in separate waters we tow their weight for the needs of others as well as our own. commitments cling like barnacles, encrusting us with their importance until we have forgotten why we took down our sails, turned away from the joy of the wind and remained stuck in the …

i retreat into the catacombs where light is but a memory and dark my dearest friend; in spaces tight, i huddle my knees pressing against my chest, i remain in the quiet until i can bear it no longer, resuming my journey through the maze of my own making. 8.27.17