The Cherita, Book 95, February 2025

Issue: "snowfall"

old masters' gallery . . .

I pause

to consider

how light and shadow

define every aspect

of my life

 

The Cherita, Book 94, January 2025

Issue: "when it rains"

sorting through

the paint tubes

on my desk

I wonder

what colours my pain

will be today

A Cherita Lighthouse Award

how fragrant

this parched earth

after rain

I can almost

hear the roses

growing

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world news

a flock

of chickadees

carrying joy

to both the hopeless

and the hopeful

shallow breathing

marks the struggle

between life and death . . .

the last gasp

of autumn colour stolen

by cruel winds

we played

hide-and seek

among rows of corn

silk tassels

woven into rings

around our fingers

two lindens

with their glossy,

heart-shaped leaves

remind me

of the way our bodies

turned silver in the moonlight

humpback whales

slip silently

through the water

why must we puny humans

leave such noise

in our wake

the sculpted blueness

inside

this glacial cave

I run my hand

over its curves

and think of you

a skulk of foxes

must have crept

into my garden last night

this morning, I found

tufts of fire among

the fountain grasses

The Cherita, Book 82, January 2024

Issue: "nomad"

whiskers

on the faces

of pansies

suddenly

I am thinking

of you

on my knees

photographing

the minutiae of nature

I peel a badge

of lichen

from my skin

they told me

to keep my wishes

inside

but I am swayed

by the constancy

of dandelions

The Cherita, Book 81, December 2023

Issue: "lighthouse keeper"

no one promised

this life

would be easy

but without hardship

I would not have found

this pen, this brush

sky spirits

are dancing

tonight

my feet

begin

to tingle

long-awaited

this rain

that slakes the thirst

of a wizened earth,

grown old

before its time

deepening snow

footsteps

make no sound

but I can hear

my breath

singing

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aspens are turning

into yellow wraiths

in the wind

soon,

they will be nothing

more than bones

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marsh cattails

exploding

in the sun

I catch a bit of light

and put it

in my pocket

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silver sage

graced

by moonlight

its scent

somehow

immortal

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The Cherita, Book 56, November 2021

Issue: "dark to light"

let us celebrate

the keepers

of blood memory

their stories

giving birth

to stars

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The Cherita, Book 50, May 2021

Issue: "washed by sunset"

the whimpers

of a starving puppy

draw me near

she offers her paw

and just like that,

I fall in love again

16,000 nights

and still,

these kisses

fall as dew

from the rose petals

of our tongues

the hull of our home

withstands

storm after storm

curtains flying

out every window

like pennants

 

The Cherita, Book 49, April 2021

Issue: "a shadow of myself"

we built

staircases of books

in our bedroom

following each other

from one world

into the next

lost again

deep inside

the forest's magic

a flush

of fairy inkcaps

enchants me

my sisters and I

nestle like spoons

underneath the comforter

father keeps

our kittens warm

inside his pockets

 

The Cherita: The Word Healers Anniversary Anthology, June 2021

we are tethered

to this earth

and to each other

our veins,

blue rhizomes searching

for light in the dark

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The Cherita, August 2019

 

The Cherita, Book 48, March 2021

Issue: "a time of wonder"

lucent sails

of pelicans

s u s p e n d e d

time stops

for a moment

and kisses the sun

cloud-crowned

mountain goddesses

reveal themselves

gauzy capes of mist

s l i p p i n g

off white shoulders

this meteorite

holds a single grain

of 7 billion-year-old stardust

deep within,

I have always known that

something is out there

 

The Cherita, Book 47, February 2021

Issue: "some kind of magic"

candlelight

winking

in every window

how I miss

those nights we burned

each other down

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The Cherita, Book 43, October 2020

Issue: "an old sadness"

a cloak of clouds

draped across

my shoulders

I wander

these ancient hills

that loved you

my father's shape

a small snowdrift

in this hospital bed

he opens his eyes

and calls me

by my childhood name

sea nymphs

I listen

to soft whisperings

inside

the pink nautilus

of your ear

 

The Cherita, Book 42, September 2020

Issue: "leave me here"

they fashioned

beaks for their masks,

nostrils stuffed

with lavender

to thwart the stench

of plague

no matter

how often I mend

the fabric of my life

loose threads

of regret still dangle

here and there

my senses

more alive

than they were

a butterfly's wing

holds all the colours

I cannot name

 

The Cherita, Book 41, August 2020

Issue: "i heard it first"

the aurora

pulses overhead

like a heartbeat

in these dark times

light knows how

to lift me up

 

The Cherita, Book 39, June 2020

Issue: "a sense of place"


imprints

of our bodies
in wet sand

emptiness filling
with the water from which
we are made


if you should

happen to drift
away

I will still be holding
onto the lifeline
of your hand

A Cherita Lighthouse Award

The Cherita, Book 38, May 2020

Issue: "it's a secret place"


beneath this bower

I will weave you
a garland of words

all the ones
you used to love,
in days beyond recall


sepia photographs

become nothing
but dust in our hands

we sift the remains
of our ancestors
over the garden

A Cherita Lighthouse Award

The Cherita, Book 37, April 2020

Issue: "and still"


the sky aflush

with dawn
and possibility

sometimes
I don't know how
to be me


we dance across

alpine meadows
on sun-washed days

tiny butterflies
like ballerinas escaping
from our mouths

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The Cherita, Lockdown Cherita Special Feature, April 2020

April 16, 2020


let it rain

yes, I know
you have been waiting

but here we are
inside this night,
alive with coming storms


A Cherita Lighthouse Award
"let it rain" issue, November 2017


April 21, 2020


from open hands

the petals and leaves
on which I wrote your name

fall, one by one
behind me . . .
this is the way home


A Cherita Lighthouse Award
"autumn deepens" issue, February 2018

The Cherita, Book 35, February 2020

Issue: "dream journal"


stark bones

of winter trees
offer no shelter

but I will
always be here,
arms open


a raku bowl

collects sunlight
on my table

how our fire
changes colour
with the seasons


we are facing pages

in this dog-eared
storybook life

the best passages
underscored
with love

The Cherita, Book 34, January 2020

Issue: "a home for the wind"


unfettered

I let
myself go

a red kite's wings
measure the width
of this loneliness

A Cherita Lighthouse Award


hordes of crows

settle among treetops
outside my window

their wings whisper
an omen that someone
is about to die


at the waterfall

elephants perish while trying
to rescue each other

there is a lesson here
that humanity seems
to have forgotten


you seek me out

in my sun-dusted
writing room

but I have
already left my body
behind


windows rolled down

my fingers
splayed against the wind

a rooster tail
of prairie dust is all
I ever leave behind

The Cherita, Book 32, November 2019

Issue: "the storyteller"


mountains

strung together
in the distance

these blue beads
circling my wrist,
a metaphor

A Cherita Lighthouse Award


my life

stretches before me
like a ribbon of taffy

I choose
to taste every colour
of the rainbow

A Cherita Lighthouse Award


the light

of earthstar fungi
flickers along this trail

I have
never learned how
to be lost


moon-silvered

snowy owls shimmer
on the wing

they ask
nothing of us,
yet give everything


in the fernery

my breathing
deepens

I pause
for a moment
and let my lungs sing


the mountain

beneath my feet
consoles me

every burden
becomes lighter
at this altitude