Type: Poem

As I bend / hanging laundry on the drying rack / my back twinges    but just a little

You glimmer in my rearview mirror Quick look, there’s no one in the / back of the car. Yet, / you

To love an idea can be quite quite / satisfying but only the body, beloved, / is holy, holy, holy.

“Every step along the way is it’s own journey…”

“We do not want to choose whose child will live and whose will die.”

Those they call vile things / are an homage / to Her beauty

My husband stokes the fire / with wood the children gathered / I knead the dough – / an offering for the Source of all

The toy Solar System / gets the revolutions right / but a true scale model / would take up half of town / .

A Poem for the Removal of Uterine Fibroids

“I have no people and my God makes me mourn…”