chocolate cake in fall

we have chocolate cake for coffee
in a kitchen, smelling orange with a fading season &
i know your legs hurt when you move but–

you’re too busy to complain.

instead you smile and tell me,
tim stopped by last week &
you made pancakes for priscilla.

i never talk much when i’m here,

maybe because my world seems complicated
or maybe just to give you space
to tell me of the things that matter.

when i leave,
your week hangs on my cheeks
& in discarded kitchen corners,
sizzles on the 40 year old stove
(why should you buy a new one– it’s still working)
and creeps across the journals, stacked neatly on the corner seat.

a thin thread leads me into autumn,

between chocolate cake and warmth,
i’m tracing my fragility–

& the leaves pile high as i change lanes


my mom was already 40 when i was born…so she’s 83 now, lives next town and i usually visit her on saturdays for a cup of coffee and a chat..

it’s my great pleasure to tend the dVerse bar tonight…doors open at 3pm EST for a poetry party on the open mic..would be cool to see you there.. 


it’s just like that..

seems i’m damned to drink cold coffee,
as soon as it is in that cup,
HOT.. promising &

it is—forgotten
OLN &  i’m abroad…

…daughter joins for breakfast

“how’s your first week back in school again..?”
“well it’s my second… ”
“oh” (there was this business trip..)

i’m leaving in a hurry..blurrrrred
office world–
“you should wear your glasses..”
“hmm”…and during coffee break
we’re talking know,

we’re Europe but–
Switzerland is not – they’re democratic
and the french drink red wine..we go

Blocher, Sarkozy and Berlusconi,
coffee’s getting cold  & curly Matt
remarks that  – after all,
i don’t speak the local dialect..

back home, i follow
the adventure cake crumb trail,
& find my son, watching the Simpsons,
heavily denying his involvement
in anything related to that cake

i sigh – walk to the bathroom…think i should
relax but there’s this poem in my head–

so soakin’ wet & naked as a jaybird
i crawl to my computer–

and this is
where my husband finds me hours later..


that was yesterday…just a very average day in my life…ha..
over at dVerse, Gay is looking at Sestinas tonight…if you’re up for a form challenge, you should really check it out.. gates open 3 pm EST


the future’s sitting at my table–

i don’t realize cause i’m
on the other end, commenting poems

“you should wear your glasses mom..”

they cooked vegetables for their dinner,
i’m not even sure how long she stays

laughing the distance silent, asking questions i
can’t answer cause i’m riding thousand trains,

she studies chemistry in Lausanne
& she’s got a winning smile, it balances
between the broccoli and laptop screen
and somehow makes it to my heart

i’m looking up and
for the first time see them–
walking into life and

i forget to get my glasses


Franzi is a friend of my daughter Miriam and she visited us over the weekend

the princess is back

we’re sitting on the floor,
unwrapping ten long months
of vida boliviana – and color
spreads, mingles with spanish
conversation as

she calls a friend to tell her
that she’s safely back and
i don’t understand a word,
just feel the warmth & closeness,
threads of amistad, spreading
across half the globe and

this is where she left her
footprints, where she grew
those wings, sparkling like
sunshine in her smile and there’s
much love as we’re unpacking
story upon story

and it feels like she was never
gone and didn’t change a bit
but in her eyes glimmers another
world – i see the mountains and
the heights and kids with
darkish cherry ojos writing
notes of love and asking “Are there
stars in Germany?”

there are & i know,
i met someone precious today 

my eldest daughter is back home after working for 10 months in a school in la paz, bolivia..


sunday morning,
i creep into your room,
lying next to you,
inhaling the years,

you’re tucked securely
between the night and
my breath, your hair
damp on my cheek and
snuggled in my arms,

i spend eternity –
holding you and letting go
like waves and waves,
the room around us
teenage mess and your
hand warm on my shoulder,
kissing away the distance

as you grunt and smile
with sleepy eyes and

we both know, we never
grew up

just a moment with my 19 year old son yesterday..

all i needed to know/for my mom

i think the moments
i loved most were
when we walked side by side
on the way to
whatever place, i

didn’t care
where we were going
but i needed to know
you’d stand by me
walking away from
what stole my breath sometimes

and all i had to be sure of was,

if i needed a hand to hold,
you would never pull yours back

…and i’m crying while writing childhood wasn’t always easy…but think my mom made me survive and i’m beyond thankful…

find more mother’s day poems over at One Stop Poetry.. 


the first rays of spring
bring you back,
freckled like Latte Macchiato
wet paint on your shirt.. nose..

brush in hand, dreaming
your bike summer green, dotted
with butterflies and your
smile tastes of
Ben & Jerry’s

i sit on the edge of a tear,
wrinkle my nose, twinkle
dust from the sunshine
and hum, prepared for

……new colors

(just a sentimental moment when i saw my daughter Miriam’s bike in the garage the other day…and she’ll be back from bolivia in june…)