Words become sentences, twisted, difficult/The story weaves itself, always noisiest at night/As herds of words won’t stop. . . “Wildebeest of Words/Breathe In

We are out sisters’ keepers.

Step-parents, those fairy tale villains,Have been given a bad name.They’re easy targets.When the family goes awryHow easy to blame them.I was blessed by the right steps…

The butterflies have flown away, like my ignorance and youth.

Heavy as such things areAfter the wordslide, the writing begins.”From “Word Quake

Here I am,” I say to the palm trees. “I can do this. Watch me.

to split the very sea into ours and theirs.” Border at the BeachAnd More White Sheets

Oh, my father, such a difficult man.His world turned on his axis.From “The Father Tamer” in BREATHE IN

Today I will find something beautiful.Delicate pink blossoms on a cherry tree.The dove resting near the lemon buds.Sunbeams smiling from sky to earth.Smiling on me.”Creating” in BREATHE IN

Lately, I don’t talk much except to Mel. I make an exception because he has a dog.

A few blossoms float into the room. They drop like frayed yellow ribbons on the gray carpet.

A dog’s good for filling a grief-dug hole.””In the Shape of Shep

Mama and I sat on a burping bus full of chickens in cages, and round-eyed babies on round mothers’ laps. (The Pinata-Maker’s Daughter)

But I see how he watches the stars,And he talks to people just because, And gee, it would be nice to have a friend.”From “Fated” in BREATHE IN

Something in the air this morning made me feel like flying. . . “Spring Flight

I never tired of picturing sharks.

pencils racing across paper, a sound I like.” Marisol

Aw honey. Today’s as important as forever.” Grandpa Joe in “Shave and a Haircut” Flash Warden and Other Stories