Friday, March 28, 2014

Happy birthday, HARPER!

So much to say about this little princess. This is going to be a multiple post topic. First, here are a couple favorite pics. 


Date Night!

Shonn and I had a great night with our besties, the Bennetts and the Smiths. Olive Garden and lots of laughing!

Monday, June 18, 2012

Wild Summer 2012

EIWP 2012

A site for discussion about writing:
Calling all educators!
Attention all writers!
Everyone is welcome!
Like us;
get closer;
follow us.

Multicultural,
interdisciplinary
learning experience.

Imagine change.
Fall into a good book.
Value work and words.
Praise focus and motivation.

What starts here CHANGES THE WORLD!

EIWP 2012--I like it wild!


(This is a found poem written from phrases found on the 3rd floor of Coleman Hall during the bathroom break writing crawl.)

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Thirteenth Summer


The Last Thirteenth Year

Our newspaper claims they say “Pharaoh, Pharaoh”
a mating call of the plagues of Egypt coming in sevens or tens

locusts brought on the wind, cover the eye of the land
eating every tree until the Pharaoh admits his sins.

But these come every thirteen years,

teens walking hand-in-hand
under power lines along an abandoned track.

Listening to cicadas, their twirling wings like vibrating atoms,
I feel more like a pharaoh than a lover,

letting go of the last thirteenth year
when you walked with me under singing oaks

holding a dog’s leash instead of a hand.


Saturday, December 11, 2010

If you really knew me. . .

In high school, friends from another school, who nonetheless knew my mother,
assumed I was a cheerleader.
They judged me based on my size,
my smile,
my personality.
But I wasn't and never had been a cheerleader.

My colleagues who only know me as the teacher who cannot say "No,"
assume that in high school I was the student leader.
The student involved in every activity,
especially Student Council.
But I wasn't ever involved in Student Council.

If you really knew me, you would know that I was a caver.
Not spelunking, that's what you non-cavers call it.
I was a belly-crawling in the mud,
through an opening that not even my hard had would fit through,
through an opening that my now after-birth hips would never fit through,
CAVER.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Haikus and a Lost Dog

Haikus for a Lost Dog

1.

She felt cold, tundra

of white, clean the firm silence.

Empty steppe links breaths.

2.

Wrapped in off-white sheets

her tail a permanent curve

she rests on old snow.

3.

Pillow replaces

her, bearing her scent after

she moves to smooth steel.

Haikus from a Lost Dog

1.

They freeze-dry their pets

in some countries, preserving

bodies, not just hides.

2.

In movies, women

sit on dogs and bury them.

Someone digs them up.

3.

For taxidermists

only outer hides remain.

My breath blows through fire.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

"Wrong Channel" Found Poem

This is America
Bibles
Reader's Digest
Impala
Espresso
Florida Room
Green Card
Beads of sweat
Good impression
Healthier look
Medical records
Interpreter
No bueno
TB
TV
Make sure it works
You need to buy one
This is America
Attaining the American dream:
TV--yes
TB--no