Dreadful thoughts from a young mind 

“My dad is dying”

My son’s friend was telling me

“I don’t want to go”

“Not there when I needed him”

Dreadful thoughts for a young mind 


Hummingbirds, Life, Death

I watch a hummingbird

And wonder about time 

Are we only allowed 

A specific number 

Of heartbeats?

Beth Caldwell’s impact on metastatic breast cancer


Not a work of poetry, but poetic in it’s raw power. It also features evocative language. 

“The only thing that brings me any sense of meaning these days is to think of these fallen trees as nurse logs. Their memories, their lives, their children, their passions, their faces, their senses of humor, their wisdom, their spirits, their beautiful beautiful beautiful spirits are nurturing us, feeding us, giving us strength to go on, to demand change, to bring research to our friends, to fight against death death death so much death. Their falling leaves a hole in the forest canopy, but their souls are bringing new life to our movement and nutrients to keep us growing.

“And someday this forest will cover the world.”

As someone who lost my mother to breast-cancer far too young (pretty much the same age as Beth), this piece hits me hard. Tears, memories, so very much brought up. And, you may find it strange to share this Christmastime, but I always remember that first Christmas after my mom died. Really, though, I see this as a powerful way to honor her. 

Blessing to each of you this Christmas. Love well, love strong, love

The Freshman Suicide

A freshman committed
Died last night,
I hear the wail
Of robbed potential,
The silent home
A room, empty,
Where homework 
Should be studied,
Driving lessons 
Proms planned, 
Eventually weddings, childbirth 
Joyful transition 
To grandparent,
Planning OUR funerals,
Not of a child. 
Funerals for children 
Life is fragile.