Returning Home
One, maybe two
puffs on a dandelion
and the seeds are gone.
Such are the years
I spent along these river banks.
Yet those years
still influence my thoughts,
my emotions,
and establish who I am.

My latest Novel
The Writer's Block
She wanted freedom but her past kept her bound.

Prairie Creek
as seen from Jenny's house

My Constant Companion

As a writer, I appreciate a silent friend. Someone who stays with me even when my mind is miles away, musing on possible storylines. Scrappy is all of this and more. He listens to every word I say and never disagrees. Most of all he loves me even on my worst hair days.

A sky to dream under

Life is more than a plain black cloud slipping silently, unnoticed, across the fading sky. It's seizing a fleeting moment and turning it into a spectacular sunset.

Fireside Fables

Small, shapeless snowflakes escape the darkness and hurl against my windows, the panes rattling under their assault. I shiver and pull my padded rocking chair closer to the blazing fireplace.

Flames lick and wrap around blocks of wood sacrificed on a metal rack, comsuming them layer by layer.

It troubles me, starts me wondering what am I that a tree should give up its life to keep me warm and content.