Footsteps in the Rain

We’ve hurried pastthe huddled homeless heaped like potato sacks along city sidewalks.  We never envisioned a saintor savior might sleep under plastic over

No Stars in the Sky

We can lay down on our backsin the grassand look for starsto wish uponwe can wish for world peaceto abolishhatredprejudicepovertyhomelessnesschild

Coffee Truce

Imagine a truce calledover made-to-order coffee—mean words surrenderingto flags of coffee fragrance,dreamy humidity of steam.Envision conflicts re-placed by slurping sounds,the


Sooner or later Writer’s need a real audience Writers need someoneTo listen To what they have written Unless it is a diary or a

Lemon Wedge

She sips gingerlyfrom the cup of“try again,”acknowledgeslife’s lemon wedgebitter-brighton teacup’s rim.She tells us the wedgeis a yellow sailon her spunky