A tiny flutter

at the outer corner

of her left eye

Barely perceptible

and yet signaling

loud and clear

Life has become

too much…



I Am Struggling

I’ve written daily, sometimes multiple times in one day.

Until a couple of months ago.

A family member read something I wrote.

Panic ensued.  Demands for an answer were made.

I felt cornered, trying to explain myself, that this is what I, as a writer, am compelled to do.

To allow my heart to bleed across the pages, oftentimes revealing the most painful and harsh thoughts.  Letting them escape my mind and body in a way that relieves me of the pressure that builds within.  A release that ensures that thoughts will never come to action.

But it has almost stopped me in my tracks.  I begin to write the realities and truth of what I am feeling.  And stop.

I am struggling because I want to write, I need to write… but I can’t write without honesty.

How do write again?



My best friend is struggling today.

Three months ago he ruptured the cruciate ligament in his hind right knee.  I opted for a surgical procedure that was tough on him.  It’s been healing slowly and he rarely uses it, but it’s coming along.

Last night, it appears the ligament in his other hind leg has ruptured.  He is so crippled at this point.  I’m sitting and waiting for the vet’s office to open.  The possible options running through my head.  The impossible option which may be the kindest for him, depending on the outcome of the exam.

He’s been my best friend for 9 years.  I don’t know what I would do without him.

Cowboy 3

Her Mr. Big

Marathon watching Sex and the City

recalling the Mr. Big in her life story.


He brought her soul to life each time

he gifted her with his time and presence.


But she was never enough as he chose

others instead over her meager offerings.


So much time she gifted him, she

never became a part of a sisterhood.


How she regrets not finding her

Charlotte, Samantha and Miranda.


How she regrets Mr. Big…