ONLINE:                                                                                  FLOWERS

An Outlook, Split Rock Review.                                                                 

Verdurous Sentence, Cumberland River Review.                                                    

Musical Notations, Mudlark.


“Botanical Garden,” Kudzu Review.

“A Road Song (for You),” The Café Review.

"On the Way," Three Nations Anthology.


"The Book’s Secret"

Every sentence can be read in an almost infinite number of ways!
                                                                           David Hawkes on the I Ching

Earth. Plumes of smoke, bedrock, the planet ball gone astray in expanding words. You stumble from winter to summer, a country humming with voices, engines, brighter accents. Before a mother is buried, the fight for succession unhinges marvelous frames.


  An afternoon breeze. The tidal water retreats––mudflats gleam and pucker, boulders hunker against a tumbled cloud-sky. And now the gulls come, claim the rocks with their unmelodious shrieks. Single-minded, they wait. Her own days are ambitious, her dreams troubled. And her chores––hanging laundry, splitting wood––don’t ever feel conclusive.