Fence - #NaPoWriMo22 Day 9

Which side is in”? Perhaps it depends
on the placement one holds in this
world. Fro thought we were likely
created as equals,
the unfortunate
truth of it is
that power
serves just



#NaPoWriMo22 Day 8

Eight days in, not bad.
Obligatory haiku.
Bring on the weekend.


little buddy - #NaPoWriMo22 Day 7

the pandemic took it out of you so many rooms to track so much
change week to week day to day hurting your back didn’t help
nor did regular visits to the vet
taken into that black box where
we couldn’t be with you
no wonder the car became a scary
place no wonder everything in the
world which was scary enough
seemed like it lurked with danger
how many months did we walk out
of the fence stand there for a moment
and come right back how many abandoned walks how many attempts
to take a car ride foiled by your far
too quick mind but look now
how far you’ve come how proud you seem head held high
we had no idea that a walk around
the block could be such a big deal
how we could end up feeling
proud for what we once assumed
would be easy yeah the pandemic
took it out of you but you never
gave up and we won’t either


My response - #NaPoWriMo22 Day 6

Then, there will be the connection sought and
you will know what it means to be community. We
must begin to grasp this - to
do what it takes to heal.
this: this fundamentally human thing: to
help each other as we fumble toward
the inevitablity of our demise. The next step could be the last. The
person before us may be the one to help us
find the meaning of this moment. And
their presence may be the very thing that shows the
way to what’s unfolding. Moving
through the world as if this is not true is maybe
the best way to keep ourselves hidden—in the dark.

With deep gratitude to Joy Harjo for providing the inspiration by way of the last line of For Calling the Spirit Back from Wandering the Earth in Its Human Feet’


thoughts that are now here - #NaPoWriMo Day 5

We are a constant falling-apart, a becoming dust—
living these lives within our circles of trust—

Between sunsets, phases of the moon—
each one holding what is taken too soon—

Listening for someone to lend us their ear—
letting go slowly, that one thing we all fear—

We are a constant falling-apart, a becoming real— suddenly still, at the edge we feel.

With gratiutdue to Bayo Akomolafe


Peel-the-Bones - #NaPoWriMo22 Day 3

Alone and haggard
– step after step,
loose stones wedged
in sandal crevices.

The bitter wind chills
the cheeks—numb in a
way that screams,
I am alive!

Waves crash—is that a
mist hitting the right
side as the path carries
one further?—

the rhythm of the
ocean. This land longs
to be remembered by
bodies descended from
those who left.

Step after step, the
End in sight.
Maybe Druids worshiped
Her here.

At long last, the fires
are coming. It’s time
to remember.
It’s time to dance.