Monday, June 27, 2011

Back of the Bus

We giggled holding hands on the bus in fourth grade. Our first dance was at the seventh grade sock-hop. In tenth grade, I surprised him with a kiss in the library. We said a rushed goodbye on graduation night. Lost contact until the ten-year reunion, both married with kids. At the twentieth, he sobbed, telling me of his divorce. The thirtieth, I unloaded the grief of my husband’s cancer. The fortieth coincided with our sixth anniversary and I felt like a kid again, holding his hand and dancing. Duty and habit led me to the fiftieth, without him, I left early.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Teach your children well

I have a piece in catapult magazine this week, "Teach your children well" a case for a more accurate and hopeful view of today's young adults...

Monday, June 20, 2011

Not a Bad Start

A real kiss with a real girl. Not Mom, Grandma, or one of those Aunts I hardly know.

I wanted to get it right. You only get one first kiss. I mean, a guy could become a hero, or mess up and never live it down.

We were walking home together on Tuesday. My hands started sweating. Heck, everything was sweating. I wanted to run but stopped walking instead.


She turned. I lunged, making a smacking sound, almost missing her lips. She started to laugh, but smiled. We started walking again, silent.

Not a bad start for a third grader.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011


Let’s put this one to rest
I understand
That clichés endure
Codifying folk wisdom
To, usually, transcend
Time and circumstances

Yet I recoil when I hear one
That undermines
All which I believe
The very principle
That guides my life
And orders my days

But it would be feeble
To fight
To think
I could convince
The long gone
And unknown authors
To reconsider
For my convenience