I’m ready to walk away, to separate myself from those who have never – really – had my back, to ease away from those who now shun me. For a short while, I thought I’d gained acceptance into their tight little circle, that of my five sisters, each of us so glaringly different from each other. But I’ve felt the sting of their indifference for far too long, a discomfort gelling now into something that feels far more ominous with a potential for permanence.

Covid, coupled with a suppressed immune system that requires special care and precautions, necessitates that I avoid large gatherings, particularly those indoors. This has meant no weddings, no graduations, no birthday parties or bridal showers, no spending time getting to know new additions to our extended family. An outdoor gathering? Great! Otherwise, no. I’ll have to pass.

But it’s always there. That look of passing judgment. I sense eyes that gloss over my concerns, smug faces that ridicule and mock me – and not always behind my back. The President tells us the pandemic is over. The country can move on. All well and good for the majority of Americans but not quite yet for the likes of me. I must still exercise caution.

A niece’s wedding approaches, my youngest sister’s daughter is planning a small event, primarily held at a local park. I’ll be there unless the weather doesn’t allow guests to congregate outdoors. And there, it seems, the shun begins. Yet another continuation of disregard for the safeguards I feel are in the best interests of my remaining healthy.

Our life – my husband’s and mine – in this time of covid, is just fine. We’re happy and content. We never feel deprived. I don’t complain about not being able to go places or take part in the activities others now enjoy in this post-pandemic world. We keep busy and occupied with our own projects, interests and passions. It’s all good. And yet, there seems to be no compassion for my immunocompromised situation, no attempts to understand. Certainly, there is not a shred of empathy. Instead, I’m criticized and sometimes confronted for not taking part in family gatherings. This is my choice. It’s my health. It’s my life, one I wish to remain healthy, thank you very much.

And so, to coin a phrase, today is the first day of the rest of my life. If that means moving on without my family, so be it.

Surrounding oneself with the skin, the aura, the flesh & bone of others…

Spoken words, laughter, curious glances, remembrances of days spent together when we scarcely knew ourselves, let alone each other. Life as we knew it then is not what we remember now, the hodge-podge haze of youth, our recollections colored, perhaps, by how we ache for those days to have played out, to have transpired.

That is, for what might have been.

Happy Friday, bloggers!  Hope you’re having a stellar week.  Can you believe we’re now on the downward slide of September already?  The weather has been pretty darn awesome so far and we still have glorious October to look forward to!!

I’ve been writing more poetry lately.  Some of it is just a mish-mash but still very satisfying. Every now and then, I’m able to pull something together that just might have some potential!  I enjoy revising old pieces too.  Does this ever happen to you?  I’ll go through my archives, especially stuff tucked away in laptop folders I’d all but forgotten about and when I read what’s in there I am occasionally stunned a) as in what a bunch of garbage.  What was I thinking?!?! or b) Wow. Did I write this?  It’s not too bad at all!

Earlier this summer I joined the Science Fiction Poetry Association and my membership includes the Rhysling Anthology, the Dwarf Stars anthology and a yearly subscription to Star*Line, all of which contain geeky, sci-fi / fantasy / speculative / dark and/or quirky / horror poetry.  The kind of stuff I like to write!  Anyway, one of the poems I encountered today in my readings referenced it as being a paradelle.  Are you familiar with this form?  I wasn’t so I Googled it and came up with this:  Poetic Form: Paradelle – Writer’s Digest (writersdigest.com).  I thought you might be interested.  I’m certainly willing to give it a try!

A year or so ago I bought a collection of Louise Gluck poems (from 1962 – 2012).  I’d read about 25% of it and wasn’t really into it so I set it aside.  Recently I’ve picked it back up and I’m really digging her poetry.  Another collection I’m enjoying right now is the poetry of James Wright.  You may be familiar with this one of his poems, which I love:  Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in… | Poetry Foundation

Who are some of your favorites, old and/or new?

Hope the muse is treating you well!  Take care and Happy Autumn!


It’s been a while. A long, long while.

Blame it on covid. Blame it on a waning interest in putting myself out there. Blame it on nothing to say. Blame it on Trump – sure. Why not?!?

I’ve been remiss in posting, sharing my thoughts, my poetry, my photography as well as in perusing others’ blogs, reading your posts, admiring your photos, enjoying your prose & your poetry.

What can I say except I’ll try again…