When Eve went to her high school senior prom, she wore a red dress that her mother had made for her. That night, after dancing with the boy of her dreams, she caught him in the act with her best friend. Months later, Eve, a freshman in college, is bullied into giving the dress to her roommate. After her mother finds out, their relationship is never the same again.
Twenty-five years later, Eve, a bestselling author, is happily married with three children. Although her mother suffers from dementia, she still remembers, and Eve still harbors the guilt for giving the dress away. When she receives a Facebook friend request from her old college roommate and an invitation to her twenty-five-year high school class reunion, then meets her former best friend by chance, she must confront the past in order to face the future.
A couple of years ago, I wrote the following poem for a contest sponsored by National Braille Press, but it didn’t win. So, I submitted it to The Avocet, and to my surprise, it appeared in this week’s online issue. You can click on the title to hear me read it.
The following was published in this year’s sprig issue of The Avocet: A Journal of Nature Poetry. You can click on the Play button below the link to hear me read it. Enjoy, and wherever you are, don’t let the wind knock you down.
How to Walk in Wyoming’s Wind
Bundle up with hands in pockets.
If the wind is at your front, lean into it.
Don’t let it push you around.
Utter profanities–no one will hear them.
When you retrace your steps, the wind will be at your back.
Let it propel you. Like the horse returning to the barn,
you’ll clip along at a steady, quick pace.
When you get home, reward yourself with a hot drink.
I wrote the following poem years ago, inspired by a park I still enjoy walking through today. I posted it this here in 2010 when it was published in Serendipity Poets Journal. Now, it appears in the summer print edition of The Avocet. Click below to hear me read it.
Today, some of you may be planning a trip to the mountains as part of your Independence Day celebration. If you live in the Sierra Nevada region in California, you could be skiing on the Fourth of July.
Here’s one of the first poems I wrote years ago while taking a creative writing class at the Wyoming Summer School for the Visually Impaired on Casper Mountain. It has since been revised and will appear in the summer print issue of The Avocet. You can click below to hear me read it. I wish you all a safe and happy Fourth of July.
A Piece of Casper Mountain
Gravel crunches beneath our feet.
With plenty of grass, bushes,
a cool mountain summer breeze,
the forest smells of pine
under a blue Wyoming sky.
In the distance, a chain saw shatters the silence.
Is someone clear-cutting or chopping firewood?
As we walk towards camp, the saw stops.
Moments later, a wood-filled truck passes.
Has enough of the forest been taken for one day?