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Still Life with Mother

I invite you to celebrate the birth of my mother in this poetic homage.

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COUNTERTERRORISM

after Kerrin McCadden my husband’s portrait is in a collage behind glass on a museum wall of prayers his name is announced by the son who never spoke it his smile is cast into homes of people we don’t knowhis name echoes across a plaza where there used to be buildingshe’s a good dad who […]

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VOICES 21st Annual Remembrance Symposium

VOICES 21st ANNUAL REMEMBRANCE SYMPOSIUM takes place September 9th and 10th. The public is invited to attend FREE programs offered on Saturday, September 10th, in which I am a participant. Visit my link to learn more.

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THERE IS LOVE

After Sharon Olds “I Go Back to May 1937” I see them standing at the nuptial threshold before their witnessesShe sees her groom smilingat the verge of the nacre vaultthe gloam blue waves climax like glisteningstrands of diamonds behind his profile, Hesees his bride with a stargazer lily in her hairstanding at the fringe made […]

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RETURN HOME

29th Birthday message for my beautiful boy Davin: Arrival, April 8, 1993 at 12:33 PM. The day I held the World in my arms.

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January 20, 1982

[In memory of Elizabeth “Lizzie”Anna Rieb, nee Teseny – September 22, 1943 – January 20, 1982] I think we know that nothing lasts forever. That every day something in our relationships, our social strata, our bodies, is ending. Let’s say your taxi-mom job is ending when your son drives himself to a movie in your […]

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All That Terrible, Beautiful Music

           What can I say, my daily mood is underscored by intense sadness. I lose my son every minute of every day—in the grocery aisle, at a red light when a BMW 350 xi passes by while an NPR guest discusses how breathwork and yoga changed her traumatized brain, saving her life. In every store […]

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DAVIN R. GARCIA

365 days ago, fifty close family members and friends gathered on a rainy morning in Poughkeepsie, New York, during a pre-vaccinated pandemic, to pay tribute to my beautiful boy, Davin Richard Garcia. 8,760 hours ago, my tears washed over a white granite box, containing the fragments of a mother’s, and father’s, love and dreams for […]

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