the endless stream that 
with it moves earth
from mountaintop to sea 
bottom built itself
an island for you 
to land upon 
formed your fortress 
stone and mud 
to hold
demons that come 
in with every
wave and gale 
exhaust the whispers 
and cries
of she who 
loved you once
took you 
to deeper
laid you bare
with your dreams 
how frightening
now the lightening 
when new love
comes softly 
leaving her feet 
in your sand
such wild thoughts 
that turn your pages
mark the cadence 
of your beating heart
something you thought 
you lost
such desperate longing 
once forgotten
awakens now 
to crescent moon 
her lonely
the thought of 
a delicate hand
woven in yours 
and what 
that might mean.

 – previously published



It comes with
cinnamon or sage
a pinch of ginger,
a song, the dress
we sewed together,
the Valentine’s
dance, Brazilian lullabies
at midnight,
how we would
tread through
the snow
looking for
the perfect tree,
the sweet
and sharp smell
of pine, candles that
lined the road,
chocolate chip, sweet
molasses and
the roast ‘beast’,
and hidden,
scent of oranges
peeled by
tiny hands,
mistletoed kisses
candied fingers
that now
call home for
the recipes
and how wonderful
that makes
me feel, chosen
pieces of me
that you carry
forward to share
with others, black
bananas make
the best bread,
and pasta,
feijoada e arroz,
no longer
line the walls,
they fill the space
that divides
us across
these landscapes,
rugged and arid,
saguaro and piñon
together create
the stories now,
the memories,
such sweet flavors
formed the dream,
these are
the recipes
we make.

  • Previously Published


Just Because

There were the times when we laughed
so hard our faces hurt, sitting in the theater
laying out in the sun, there was the phone
call to you in Brazil – “nice vacation”
mosquito bitten, humidity dripping off the walls
while your sweetheart fought off the Revenge
how we use that phrase now, again and again
stories you’d tell of wind surfing rescue missions
cooking and entertainment disasters, dogs that
jump the electric fence, mishaps and mistakes,
“Don’t Stop Thinking about Tomorrow” antics,
walking the snowy evening streets or driving
across the desert heat back to California,
lean the seats back and watch the night rise

So that we find you now in a place that longs
for laughter, cries out for it with all the healing
that it can bring, the sheer silliness of things, hope
springs from the heart in song, remembrances of
simplier times when we would hike the hills
at the end of Reseda, you so little – your hand
in mine, the joy of Sophia as she runs the house
chattering dogs at her heals, how lovely these
moments that carry the days, they fill the nights
with dreams, nostalgic longing and the possibility
that a memory will rise and greet you with
my smile, looking down on you and laugh, laugh
for no reason at all but to say, “just because”,
just because, Francesca, we still can.

-For my lovely sister.



of the finest
these moments
transform energy
blooms compassion
with little hands
steps aside
my fragile heart
begins a new song
with graceful
dancing smiles
along other roads
where trees
always sway
in gentle breezes
and your love
not contained
carries the river
touches bare feet
of children playing
sandy shoes
that line the door
warm cocoa memories
rich laughter
like kindness


Places Long Traveled

four corners meet in the nostalgic
lullabies sung now to sleepy children
places long ago well traveled reminding
the stones in your shoes white canvas
how red cliffs scrap the sky tower the
tree cottonwoods and little brook
sliprock trails lead you into the heart
cliff dwelling and the kiva descending
desert colla and sage contrast the emerald
crashing sand dreams that wind the coast
seal lions and sea birds romp shores
in childhood you played and picniced
tall pines fill the spaces to open up
on glacier blue Paradise Ice Caves
blue lupines and red paintbrush flower
picking wild blueberries and eating them all
how the islands dot the bay calling you
to visit cycle their course and walk
long paths that smell of bay laurel
hemlock leans the iced falls transformed
daily into sculptures of winter not far
from where the corn fields once stood
the lake now frozen holds its secrets
where once you lived places long traveled