My soul work is this
That I no longer hope to be a saint That I no longer think you want me to be That …
Author Archives: Jenifer
Seven attempts to settle my mind
i. my mind chews its way through each of my lessons spitting back what the animal dislikes savoring its own …
Old elm (revised)
Abandoned farmhouse, graying outbuildings. In your final winter, you stood with empty, cracking branches to tell us plain that your …
And our longings will meet
coming in the house with sand between your toes or mud covering your boots, you may pause by my old …
As we begin
rain falls from fog through sleeping branches (frail, broken sticks?), soaks with slippery ease into soil to restore them Note: …
2019, my Dad and coming back
2019 was a year that was filled with loss for me and my family – a dear aunt, my step …
Tanka for working from home
In interesting times, I write at my son’s old desk cut into his closet stuffed with childhood remnants curse, avalanche …
To my Aunt Cathy
Originally posted on Poems from in between:
It was as we played king of the raft — bobbing the way it did, always…
Pond and Brook
I leave my Pond and Brook by the bedside, with its buzzing mayflies, fin-splashed surface, amoeba-soaked beach, and head downstairs, …
The hill faraway
The hill stands innocent as it always has – empty now, or perhaps drowsily crossed by weekend strollers. What is …
