by jill | Oct 30, 2021 | Blog
There are Lonely Cemeteries (after Pablo Neruda) but not in Romerillo, Chiapas, on Day of the Deadwhen colossal chrysanthemums cover pinebranch crosses, whisper and wave on windy hillside. A voyeur tourista, I hide beneath umbrella up inclinefollowing villagers who...
by jill | Sep 5, 2021 | Blog
Leslie banged plastic keys on her highchair’s tray. My brothers Todd and Sandy, heaved lemons from our tree at each other up in the rose garden.“You boys knock it off,” Mom yelled.They stopped, stared at her, and went right back to it. The second eldest in the boy,...
by jill | Jun 9, 2021 | Blog
Fleeting BeautiesAlong San Diegospring sidewalksjoyful jacarandasburst luscious lavender blooms.Before long they fade wrinklefall crushed beneathfeet to elicit perfume bittersweetuntil kind wistfulwinds do sweep. The Avocet, A Journal of Nature PoetrySpring 2020...
by jill | May 4, 2021 | Blog
Surprise At sunrise florescent hummingbird pops upfrom sweet-smelling sage, zips to my windowpane. She hovers on helicopterwings, gazes inside to mesmerize, makesme glow with a smile.I realize it’s been a while. Published in The Avocet, A Journal of Nature Poetry,...
by jill | Mar 6, 2021 | Blog
With exacting zeal, Tommy mimicsa serious man drinking a café con leche at an Upper West Side bar.Unshaven, wearing a jaunty Frenchcap, energized and spontaneoushe scribbles tiny indecipherablenotes and diagrams with black ink. Shimmering clusters of circlesand dots...
Recent Comments