Heart, We Will Release Him! (Inspired by Emily Dickinson)

Something from the “vault”…

Heart, we will release him!

(Inspired by Emily Dickinson)


Heart, we will release him

From his unwitting prison walls;

Soul, we will grant his escape

Before the evening falls.


Mind, we will unlock him

From fantasies he did not see.

Breath, we will exhale him

So that we can all be free.


Fool, we will admit it –

Our walls were invisible to him.

Image, we will both resign

That chances were in fact too slim.


Arms, we will unfold him

From our unfelt embrace

Eyes, we will look away

And gaze no longer at his face.


Heart please help us hurry

Lest, when we pause to think of him,

Our weakness overtakes us,

And we imprison him again.





Girl Left Behind, Eastman Johnson

the sky changed
color whie i thought i was watching
it the ocean receded
under my feet when i believed i was
the weather turned
cold even as i shed
my jacket
the world went to sleep
without a lullaby
the moon was
only a sliver of light
when i knew that it had been
round the
night before the rain
ceased and the
ground began to
as i launched
my canoe and
all the while i
my suitcase was
sufficiently packed
but i wasn’t taking a trip

Moms, what are we thinking?


Moms…..what are we thinking?  I mean, I am a mom too.  I love my kids dearly.  I fully understand that nurturing instinct.  But our kids are going to be running the country someday.  And based on that fact alone….this has GOT to stop.

I work in an office where people frequently come to fill out forms.  Today a young man came in and needed to fill out one of said forms.  His mother and two siblings were with him.  I call him a young man because he is legally an adult.  You know, the grown up kind.  And yet I watched with a mixture of sad amusement and…chagrin as his mother hovered so close she was touching him…spelling the name of his town and giving him his zip code one letter and digit at a time.  No, this man did not have any special needs…well at least not according to Section 504 or PL94142.  His only handicap was the woman connected to him.  There was something about him, though….

When I took his form, my wonderings were confirmed.  I had heard a relative speak of this young man.  He did not know how to fill out forms for school either.  He was to take a minimum of hours in his college in order to remain qualified for the scholarship he was awarded, but he did not.  His mom thought the load was too heavy.  Readers, you may not be aware of this, but once your child is a legal adult……you cannot ask their professors questions about them….unless your son or daughter signs a waiver.  It did not surprise me at all that he had signed one.  He cannot function without her.  And that is her doing.

What are these child/adults going to do when they graduate from college after their moms have begged their professors for extra credit and complained about the color scheme of the graduation gowns?  Are their mommies going to tell the CEO for whom they work that Little Timmy has a cold and can’t work today? What if little Timmy drives too fast (assuming he is allowed to drive without her) and gets a ticket.  Will Mom scold the poor officer?

Listen, Moms…..when we make our children helpless, when we shield them from every obstacle, beginning with knee pads for crawling, trophies for attending half the tee-ball games, and all the way to trying to convince their senior English teacher at the end of May to pleeeeease let them do extra credit, what are we teaching them about functioning in the real world?  Not much.

So come on, Moms….loosen the grip.  Let them understand that the monsters on Scooby Doo aren’t real.  That they have to actually work to earn rewards.  And that thinking for themselves is actually a GOOD thing.

the dress



One warm day in

Another life

I bought a sundress

With thin white straps,

And a high waist of white,

with orange colored fabric

That was scattered with white flowers

And a skirt with just a hint of


That skimmed above the knee.

I had a dream

A fantasy really

That had no tangible basis

Of wearing it, 

Holding down the skirt

With hands clasped in front

To prevent the breeze from catching it

As I waited at the small ariport

For a dinner date.

Today I tried it on.

In a bittersweet moment

I realized it was too big now,

So I took it to the thrift store,

The tags still attached.

The little lady

With southern grace

Was happy that I brought it by.

And yes, as I

Drove away,

I still had a lingering regret

That I never got to wear it….

Just once.


…that I should in fact be a comedian….

Today I sat in The Olive Garden with my kids eating an appetizer, and suddenly this brilliant bit of humor struck me…

What does Indiana Jones eat in the Italian Temple of Doom?





Yes I know.  That will get me on the Tonight Show.  Thank you very much.