behold, a mystery
Ripening roundness, sturdy moonbeam
Inscrutable and delicate
Sixteenth of our House,
First daughter to brave atmosphere
Hidden yet surely coming
Unknown yet foreknown
We unwrap your layers, a gift long awaited.
Home » Chronological »
Poetry
This is why it’s called an Odyssey
Like the deceptively simple journey from Troy to Ithaca, my plan to fly to Newark went awry early on.
appointment
(Written April 13 and languishing unedited until now) We hadn’t been back since we lost the last one. “Lie down. This gel should be warm.”… Read More »appointment
before the big ultrasound
My apologies to Baroness Orczy and The Scarlet Pimpernel. “They seek it here They poke it there Those doctors test it Everywhere! Will it be… Read More »before the big ultrasound