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High-Sailing Hawks

High-Sailing Hawks

Journal Entry. August 1. Yesterday–that would be the last day of July–my fourteen-year-old, over-six-foot-tall grandson and I were deadheading my very tall rose bush—a bush that grows higher than the eaves of our garage. Stretching out his long arms...
Mike Nine Field

Mike Nine Field

Slice of Life. Sun and clouds have battled all day, but as evening approaches, the sun has won. There is no rain. This is significant on a May evening in Portland. We gather early at Harrison Park, finding our places on the familiar bleachers. Dark clouds are blowing...
Mom

Mom

Poetry Friday : Mom Happy Mother’s Day! Last year for Mother’s Day, I wrote of my mother — a five-minute stream-of-consciousness piece that became the draft of a poem. This week, I revised those lines, and with them I honor the memory of my mother,...
A Special Day

A Special Day

Spiritual Journey: Special Days Sunday. The first day of the week. Always a new beginning. Sundays always have been and always will be a special day for me. A day different from all the other days of the week. A day to join with others in song and prayer and scripture...
Girlhood Memories

Girlhood Memories

 Poetry Friday  *  Celebrate this Week  *  Spiritual Journey.   A poem became a song and is sung around the world. I have a girlhood memory, or perhaps I should say a repeated memory, or maybe it’s really a string of memories that telescope into one, of my...
Chatter

Chatter

Poetry Friday. On this Friday, to salute chatter that I love and silence that I crave, in memory of my childhood, in memory of my brothers, I share “Little Charlie Chipmunk”– the lines of which I can still recite. Little Charlie Chipmunk Little...