I'm happy to announce that I participated in the My Favorite Poem Project, which was sponsored by the Washington-Centerville Public Library on 3/20/19. I read "Book Lice" by Paul Fleischman with Kim Senft-Paras. This was my first time participating in a poetry reading, and I truly had a great time. Many thanks to the WCPL for hosting this event. I look forward to next year!

*St. Peter Inserts Audible Sigh*

At the end of my life, when I’ve made the inevitable jaunt to that ever-elusive other side, I hope, nay pray, I never receive my complete tally of “hours spent in front of screen scrolling...scrolling...scrolling.”

heaven's pearly gates

but first

Instagram that sh*t

*Published in Issue #39 of Failed Haiku

old dream

the fear reverts

to monochrome

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 3/6/19

beyond an asterisk

the scent

of ylang ylang

*Published by Harusame on 3/6/19

fallen petal

another soul

lost to drugs

*

like Satie

how the dusk turns

red to violet

*

night music

the gentle thrum

of solitude

*

ochre dawn

I bathe my ears

in ragas

*

happy surprise

the blue jay's call

between snowflakes

*Published in the spring 2019 edition of The Bamboo Hut

Rebecca

I wasn't popular in high school. In a Catholic institution filled with all things blond, tan, ambitious, and religious, I was the weirdo agnostic who dug combat boots and barely saw the light of a grade higher than C. My sole friend—a conservative, prim Brainiac—never viewed me as a misfit, however. I was her dear pal. A sleepover buddy. I was the person who snuck into a vacant girls' locker room at lunch to philosophize life and Tolkien with her, without the background chatter of a blustering cafeteria.  
 
Before we graduated, I made the risky choice to tell her that I was bisexual. I never had a crush on her, I said, but I wanted her to know the real me, whatever that was, before we journeyed our separate ways to college.   
 
A week or two later, she sent me a lengthy hand-written letter, the old-fashioned way: through mail. It was one of the most beautiful, raw, and compassionate things I had ever read, filled with unconditional love and support. I was floored. In my head, I whispered continual gratitude—a thousand silent thank-yous to whoever listened to my internal ramblings that I had, despite my prediction, not lost a friend.  
 
I tucked her letter in my bedroom drawer and vowed to the stars I would respond soon. But I never did. And I never saw or heard from her again. 
 

in the wind

a thousand apologies
​lost forever 

*Published in Issue 1.2 of Human/Kind Journal
**2019 Pushcart Prize nominee

once again

I indulge

the twist

of gold and ruby

along the banks

of twilight

*

via the sparrow

melancholia

finds C major

*

road to home peeling skin in the boneyard

*

is this

how tigers

claim ground

as theirs

the lick

of winter

across my

bare neck

*

time travel

in my hands

a photo of mother

before the cancer

*Published in Otata 39 (March 2019)

mist

over the lake

slowly I unfold

*Published in the February 2019 issue of Stardust Haiku 

old friend

the coffee

a bit warmer

*Published by Haikuniverse (www.haikuniverse.com) on 2/22/19

yellow moon

lips tremble

with truth

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 2/22/19

overslept

right and left

reversed

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 2/18/19

still a sucker

for a compliment

pink camellia

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 2/14/19

lush quietude

just being

with my being

*Published by Fresh Out: An Arts and Poetry Collective on 2/10/19

Blank (Slate)

another trash bag has been filled, but I'm no closer to relief

unbecoming you

I become

an abstract

*Published by The Other Bunny on 2/4/19

those secret places

like the ones we find 

in our dreams

they have a way

of bringing us home

faster than cars

*Published in pieces of sky (the cherita book 18)

in my palm

every remnant of you

I scatter them

along the edge

of a faraway trail

with only a prayer

*Published in in my palm (the cherita book 22)

new year

every mountain

unchanged

*Published in the January 2019 issue of Stardust Haiku 

on the edge of Orion 

honey

no need for lipstick

*

another dimension D# as Gb or cerulean

*

electric rainbow in the thick of the body

*Published in the January 2019 edition of is/let

Step Zero

I buy a six-pack and blow through them. It's all right, I tell myself. I don't do this every day. Just a few times each week.

media spin

no one hears

the city burn

*Published in the January 2019 edition of Seedpods

**Honorable Mention in the UHTS Samurai Haibun Contest 2018

I promise

if you look

even closer

I am

more beautiful

than these scars

*Published in snow ghosts (the cherita book 21)

frost encases

each blade of grass

this belief

of not being enough

for you or myself

*Published in Issue #19 of Moonbathing

**Winner of the Editor’s Choice Award

sun after snow

may I never forget

your grace

*Published in the December 2018 issue of Stardust Haiku

splitting atoms

this magenta

behind words

*Selected for The Haiku Foundation’s Per Diem on 12/14/18

dry mouth

on this night

with no moon

is this how

our vows turn into

broken promises?

*Published in the stories (the cherita book 20)

find me

in the space

between breaths

between this world

and the one

you cannot see

*

after the divorce

naked became

mother's normal

so desperate for attention

she demanded it

from her children

*

to one, I am meek

to another, aggressive

my hands

are cut and tired

from holding your mirror

*

how twilight

blankets trees

ashamed

I cover

my aging body

*Published in Atlas Poetica 32