Ode

          My zinnias are bursts of radiance bolts of joy magenta and orange and sunlight they never failed me all summer when I lived in the beige and pain of rehab they kept alive in the big ignored pot on the driveway thank you zinnias thank you for giving me so […]

‘Tis a Consummation

When my kids were tiny, all they wanted was to hang on me. Probably my mom felt bereft when she came to visit, when after the first thrill of her presence they would turn to me instead—as now I feel bereft when, after the first thrill, my grandchildren turn to their mothers. There is nothing […]