Category Archives: poetry

Just Jump

20130722_101830Yesterday I took a walk with a friend.  We walked through scented valleys, among heartrendingly beautiful groves of ancient oak and sycamore.  This land has always been sacred, a source of constant water in an arid range. When I walk here, messages are so close to the surface.

Here is what I mean:  when I lift my water bottle to take a drink, the wind rushes across and sounds a low, perfect note.  Or, lying back in the cool water of the creek, watching the herons dive for fish, setting the waterlilies trembling, I melt completely into the water until there is no difference between my heartbeat and the bend of the cattails in the wind.  Here there is water, shelter, food, joy, an abundance of everything.  So too there is an abundance in me. Continue reading


July 24, 2013 · 2:30 am

every day is poetry

cropped-fairy-house.jpgI’ve been leading a morning camp for four-year-olds this week, pressed into service with little warning as a last-minute substitute.  I had only two days to prepare a curriculum and acquire supplies.  Through the years I’ve been an environmental skills teacher, a land steward, a preschool teacher, a daycare coordinator, a Waldorf teacher, and a K-5 art teacher.  I should have had this easily covered.  And yet—it’s been years, and several iterations, since I last identified as a teacher.  I feel—not rusty, but as though I’m trying to slip into an old skin.  Like a cicada squeezing into the case it shed.  I don’t really fit as a teacher anymore. Continue reading


July 11, 2013 · 3:13 am



the space art takes when
two minds endeavor to

the purpose of laughter
a textured voice like
degrees of warmth in sunlight

why language at all?

also try:
outlined eyes
stepped heels
a soft hand on the arm

lift of wind
linen on skin
count of syllables
or told


a memory twists sentences in passing.
a note blown on the floor.


March 11, 2013 · 2:10 pm