Sunday, June 24, 2018


One sunny, warm, breezy afternoon
During my "playtime", when I practiced how to paint,
My endeavor was interrupted by my mountains. 
Silently, absurdly, jealously they called me
To look at them like an only child
Tantruming, demanding attention. 
I obliged, happily celebrating 
Their hypnotic, motionless performance
Until shadows of birds flying overhead
Startled me. 
I resumed my original goal,
A large roadrunner, dashed from the bushes, 
running right in front of my window
To confront me with his big round eyes.
Defiantly, he stared straight at me.
Clicking and whirring.
Though I do not speak his language,
He demanded to know what I was doing.
Exasperated he ran around and around before me,
An angry bird.
A large quail family waddled toward me
To apparently demonstrate the glory of family unity
By parading before my window.
The vigilant parents communicated well to ensure
That not one tiny baby got left behind.
A little cotton-tail rabbit appeared like magic,
Seemingly, to join in whatever it is 
The rest of the crowd was watching 
Through that mysterious opening where 
I, this strange creature, lurked.
A huge jack rabbit leaped, peaked
But hopped quickly toward the desert
Where he could surely have more fun.

I sat mesmerized
At the scene that had unfolded before me -
A party, a living composition 
from Mother Nature, showing me
how She uses her playtime
to  paint masterpieces.

(For Poets United.)

Wednesday, June 20, 2018


I'm an animal who hungers and thirsts
For comfort first,
But then with belly full, I search
To quench my curiosity.
Why is the world so ugly and so beautiful? 
Why am I that way too?
Is my mind a blessing or curse,
Convincing me of right and wrong, 
then judging what I choose?

Do questions define me?
Is my humanity a complex puzzle with no edges,
Each piece creating a need for more definition
Of a picture expanding infinitely
Into a world without end?
Dare I say, Amen?

(For Poets United where Susan challenges us to write about humanity.)

Wednesday, June 6, 2018


I ran into my little cousin, Tony, as I rushed back home from the hairdresser who'd done my hair just the way I wanted. Bouncy, gentle curls danced to the pace of my quick walk.

"I'll race you down the block." Tony singsonged the words repeatedly as I laughed. I couldn't believe he was serious. Did he not know I was a grown up, already graduated from college, already travelled in Europe, already employed, already a teacher. He obviously didn't care.  He was a mere child, unable to discern the inappropriateness of his request.  But like most children who want to play, he was relentless.  "Oh, OK." I gave in to his challenge, partially because I knew he would harass me the entire way home, but also because he sparked that little flame within me that, even now, tells me I'm still young.

On your mark, get set, go!

I ran as if my life depended on it. No matter that my hair got tousled, like I would be from that day forward - bouncing up and down, unravelling a bit, then rounding up again into a smooth curl. Then repeat. It was fun.  I won! Incredulous, my little cousin wanted to race again.  I was tempted, but I'd run out of time.  I had to get ready for my wedding at 3 pm.

Seasons run like time
Racing through life's ebb and flow
As sun rises and falls

(For Poets United.0

Sunday, May 27, 2018


One morning Leroy and I walked happily
Enjoying bird song interwoven with sweet sunshine
Suddenly: B  O  O  M
Startled we hunched in fear
As if one could dodge a bomb

I looked around
All was still
A deep, heavy silence loomed
Until a second BOOM
Then another
The military missile range rehearsed war
On the other side
Of my peaceful mountains

Annoyance replaced serenity
Then I wondered
"How would I feel
If the booms I hear were real?
The deep silence - the song of death?"

Guilt with compassion merged
I considered my faux tiny trauma
Versus experiencing a barrage of explosions 
That really kill

My morning walk was ruined
I tried to hurry home
But Leroy slowed us down
He was still enraptured 
Sniffing all the awful smells he loves 
Because dogs know how to be
Only where they are
Not I

Wednesday, May 23, 2018



You're an addiction
Say those who misunderstand
The value of my intoxication
Grounded in my cultural interpretation
Of you 

"Wake up!" you say, "Smell me
Not the roses, so pretty
They paint life pink."
Unlike you
Who depict the flow of life in splattering ink

In infancy, I drank your elixir
A must for all, where I come from
You've stimulated my days,
Alerted my awareness, before slumber at night
No harm done
Instead, you've become
The fluid that often fuels connection
With the people I love

I need you, the way my lungs need air
Still, it's not fair
To call our relationship diagnosable
When what you do for me 
Is so utterly laudable

(Yes it's true - During my infancy it was not uncommon for Puerto Ricans to give babies a few drops of coffee in their bottles.  Also, my husband and I ritually drink coffee in the evening a few hours before bed.  No effect to our sleep.)

(For Poets United where Sumana asks us to pay tribute to someone or something.)

Sunday, May 20, 2018


For the last couple of years my husband has been ill.  In and out of hospitals.  Recently, he was told he was doing great.  No need for more regular doctors appointments.  We are in celebration mode and took a sweet vacation to Costa Rica.

We hiked high to see that volcano
Like a parenthesis in time
We walked in fearless enjoyment of life
Forgetting about its surprising eruptions 
Slimy burning lava of suffering, panic, pain

We felt like air
Bright green breathed us 
Magnifying, amplifying our delight
As we fused our nature with nature
Making us beautiful too
Confirming there is time for joy
As we defy or temporarily forget
That volcanos, like life, can spew hot ash.

A little friend we made along the way.

Wednesday, April 25, 2018



I remember my summers 
When I sweltered happily
Dancing in sunny party of my youth
Enjoying the sun as its beating rays
Invited me to play 
Challenging my Icarus within to fly
High into the burning sky 
I remember how I flew in hot tailspins
As the fire singed but didn't melt my skin
I fell then soared again 
Pursuing my dreams
My whims of flames
While the sun beat
Not ever wanting my defeat
Merely wanting to disturb
To bother like an annoying big brother
Teasing me summer after summer

(For Poets United.)