GROWL, if you will
But a meal without a FRILL
Can feed you and save on the bill

Georg’ann

She came to COURT
outdo any RIVAL.
Fired up the GRILL,
arranged veggies,
an elaborate FRILL.
We understood it
as symbolic display
of her plumage.
Our thrill to partake
in mating ritual.

Heather

“I put myself in your hands, Flora. I have TOTAL trust in your ability to SHEAR away the weight of my hair and leave me looking gorgeous.” Flora cocked her head to one side, eyeing my mass of hair. “Thanks for the cup o’ joe,” she said appreciatively. “Ha, I figured it had been so long since I had been in that it wouldn’t hurt to bring a peace offering. And a couple of JAVAS seemed about right.” Flora smirked in response. But she is good at what she does and takes her work seriously. We’ve known each other for years, and she had been my hairdresser, for much of that time and like family for all of it. I watched her, her hands expertly moving through my long hair. She put me in mind of a jeweler, on the way to making a new piece of art, starting to ASSAY the precious metals and gems before them. I tried not to show how impatient I was. I tried not to reveal how much was riding on this moment.  If I was going to get away from – well, you know – I was going to need to walk out of here looking significantly different.  Flora loved me like a sister, but she was a straight arrow, and she  didn’t approve of my life. I still hadn’t figured out how to navigate this with her. 

Georg’ann

Finally prone, mattress rising up
to meet, hold my tired body. 
Both secure and yielding. 
Dream ship to take me far away. 
CRAVE this place of solitude. 
DAILY interactions plentiful. 
No AGONY if kept in balance. 
Tracy says she has vision
of me standing in a canoe.
I think now more row boat
moving through dreamy mist.
Feet planted wide, lantern in hand.
Outside evening insects 
begin to sing their lullabies. 
Let sleep come without knowing 
how to make use of ASSAY. 

Heather

An Invitation 

Come sit for a SPELL
Let me TREAT you well
We can AMEND wrongs 
Use OMEGA in a song
It will be swell

Georg’ann

QUIET. Heat, rain pushing 
anyone that can be indoors.  
Find pleasure in books, tv. 
Walk miles on the treadmill. 
Enjoy an ice CREAM sandwich
for dinner. AMEND nutrition 
later, eat mega dose of OMEGA-3. 

Heather

I’m a bit like a moldy CRUST of bread, on which there has been a SPILL of sour milk, a leftover, shoved in the back of the fridge – used up, crumpled, no good bits left

I’m also like a tender green bit of growth, growing up out of the cement of the sidewalk or the tiles on a roof, bringing a bit of life to a dark, deadened place, strong and powerful while flexible and adaptable

I’m at the SHANK of the journey, meaning the latter part, the early part, or maybe even the main part, all of it true, and it’s impossible to know how much lies before me and so not yet able to make meaning out of what lies behind me

I’m SAVVY and naive, curious and knowing, a bundle of contradictions, yet with clarity of purpose and commitment to love

Georg’ann

Some say ANGER is useful,
clarifying of needs, motivating
a way forward. Slippery slope,
she’s mired in the muck.

SCALP massage helps,
no pulling out the hair.
Retreats into mellow music,
SASSY stylist chatter.

From within bubble
exudes calm. Still not.
Finely honed SAVVY
meets all the moments.

Heather

Arts & Crafts

Draw a HEART boldly
Sprinkle glitter, make it SHINE
WHOLE table giggles

Georg’ann

Circle

CHART of children’s art
evolution made into mandala. 
Embroidered in rich reds, 
stitches of blue, yellow, green. 
Floss has touch of SHINE. 
Universal patterns within 
the most elemental WHOLE. 

Heather

With a glower, the Queen looked at her nobles gathered in the inner chamber. A hush fell upon the room.  She declared, “CEASE your posturing. Do not GLAZE over at my words. Only a KNAVE or a DRAKE (one an arrogant man, the other an arrogant duck) would fail to QUAKE in my presence. Deluded fools that you are.”

Georg’ann

CHAIN of peas upon the PLATE.
No matter an advanced GRADE,
still loves to play with her food. 
Shake the table, make a QUAKE. 
Spring comes to potato mountain.

Heather

LEARN to TREAD
lightly on the EARTH
CATER to the needs 
of the WATER
Care deeply for 
our shared home

Georg’ann

GUIDE took us across the inlet.
Boat zoomed, wind blew. 
Slowed near white marble cliffs showing CLEAR, angled layers
rising from blue sea to blue sky. 
AFTER we rounded the corner, 
WATER even more blue than blue.
Overcome, I wept. In waves. 
Salty water from the depths. 

Heather

The SCOPE of what I am doing makes me feel like I should get an AWARD at the end of this journey. I sometimes BLINK in shock at the piles, the lists, the level of detail, and, at the same time, the need to hold the whole. I find it best not to FIGHT it, for that would only get me into TIZZY. And that would not help anyone. And so, I keep moving forward, teetering and tottering, but mostly managing to stay upright. 

Georg’ann

Started day FLUID, 
pouring myself fully
into dry creek beds. 
IRONY to be flooded
by day’s end. Wishing
for my departed KITTY. 
She could calm a TIZZY.
Can almost conjure her
spirit. Now simply sad.

Heather

“Pass me the TWINE, SONNY.” Pots CLANG into the box. The controlled chaos of packing up a life expressed in the jumble and noise now labeled “kitchen.” We stare, inwardly mystified, outwardly BLAND. It’s one of those life-altering moments: a family elder about to move from living alone to “independent living.” We keep our expressions carefully BLANK, yet friendly, as the group of disparate individuals feel their way into a supportive, united web around the need.

Georg’ann

Force now FRAIL
Oblivious of PLACE
Green eyes BLANK.

Heather

He stood, arrogantly at the front of the chapel. It was an unlikely place to RELAY a challenge, but he was an unusual man. There was an edge of FROST around his every word. SHORN of any pretense of making peace, the cold steely words were as sharp as the SWORD that hung by his side. 

Georg’ann

Dots of burnt sienna 
pollen STAIN my dress. 
Brushed against giant’s bouquet 
of Casablanca Lily wired up
the back stoop. Taller than me. Ridiculously abundant blossoms. Heady scent rides the air
like coy waves playing 
along the SHORE, 
coming toward, then gone. 
In the dark fireflies dance. 
Also here, then not. 
Child moves through yard
with a lighted plastic SWORD. 
In the dark, such sweetness.

Heather

SURELY all the LORES and tales, 
the LORDS and ladies, 
the many and the few
are not enough to explain 
the LORIS, a miracle of nature?
Big eyes, slow movements,
skilled hunter, uniquely venomous!

Georg’ann

FOUND objects decorate 
our PORCH. Gathering 
of discards repurposed. 
Interesting metal shapes
origin, purpose unknown. 
Nests fallen elsewhere. 
Footstool with flaking paint. 
Bits of colored glass. 
Two fraying wicker chairs. 
Here we sit to read
animal stories. Careful 
to avoid ones too pushy
with a MORAL to teach. 
Nature picture books too. 
Hours you spend captivated 
by long tailed lemurs 
and the big eyed LORIS.

Heather

With a GLEAM in his eye, the evil dentist moved in closer. “Once I give you this injection, I will just pull your MOLAR. You will not feel a thing.” Our hero twitched an eyebrow, leaped to his feet, flipped around, pinning the criminal mastermind into his own chair of dental torture. “Aha, Dr. Demented, I have got you now! You don’t stand a chance against my MODAL multiphasic weapon. Your days of nefarious evil doing are over!”

“Timmy? Timmy? The dentist is all done. We can go home now. ” “wha? OK, Mom. My mouth is sore.” And so Timmy’s mom promised to get him milkshake on the way home from the dentist, and Timmy got to tell her his wild dream in the dentist chair.

Georg’ann

Following an impulse, I FOUND a new MODEL for guiding experiential learning. Moving from using a variety of distinct single modes, I now use a multi MODAL approach that allows for broader and deeper understanding.

Heather

End of day 

A STORY at the READY,
a PERKY child at the 
MERCY of fatigue, 
a little NERVY and restless.
Then, a moment of sinking into 
the reading and the snuggle.
Sweet dreams for all!

Georg’ann

For Larry, Thank you!

Rain begins just as he starts 
to clean out the gutters. 
He stays his course, we look on.
Carefully brushes flat PITCH, 
cuts LOWER branches
of the woodland BRAKE. 
Finds what remains of departed
squirrel. “Mostly bones”
is reply when we QUERY. 
Over blueberry pancakes 
conversation trends NERDY. 
Reverses course to tale 
of NERVY time up high, 
leaning from a ladder 
risking life and limb, 
in act of service for friends. 
While downpour drenches you, 
we splash in puddles of kindness. 

Heather

It was a CLEAR path to The Hill, with a smaller MOUND or two, hillocks really, in between. The Prince and his faithful companion, Frank, were a few days into their quest. Traveling alongside was an entourage of elves and fairies. They made quite the spectacle through the forest and along the road. Some of the creatures had the purpose of gathering morning dew and fresh blossoms to provide a BOOST of energy when needed. Others of these clever companions had the very useful skill of being able to FOIST all manner of negative things into another dimension, only to pick them up a mile down the road transformed into something useful. The category of negative was quite wide, encompassing emotions like despair or confusion or objects like rotten fruit or spoiled meat. It not only kept them from wasting food but also kept spirits up and made the journey more pleasant. In any case, the Prince and Frank were quite pleased with their progress. They should reach The Hill in a few days.

Georg’ann

Identity Play

Tween afternoons, evenings
SPARE time, practice new looks. 
Magazines spread on the floor. 
Inspirations to replicate, 
execution at times 
closer to cake wrecks. 
BLUSH applied strategically. 
Sculpting cheekbones, 
giving a healthy glow. 
Lip and eyeliner, 
shapeshifting our features. 
Adding beauty dots, lines. 
TWIST hair into soft waves, 
shellac with firm hold spray. 
Lotions and creams keep
young skin MOIST, supple. 
As if it weren’t naturally so. 
Devouring what culture
FOIST upon us, delighting in 
the craft of becoming 
alternate versions of ourselves. 

Heather

STONE wall, waters DRAIN 
along cracks, tiny blooms, moss.
It UNDID me to lose you.

Georg’ann

More Nostalgia

Entering public pool
locker room is stepping 
back in time. Dank, DIRTY. 
Unchanged since I was a kid, 
then mother, now grandmother.
SLIDE back torn stall curtain, 
careful to AVOID sludge. 
Make our way quickly 
through stale, HUMID air. 
Outside opposite impression. 
Well maintained, open, tidy. 
UNDID our outer layers. 
Plunged without hesitation
into sparkling cool water. 

Heather

I did not want to be going on this trip.  But, here I was, at the airport: bored, frustrated, tired. As one does, I watched the crowd, my eyes naturally drawn to the interesting scenes. A TOUCH of the DROLE here, a little drama there. Nearby, some SPOKE in voices just loud enough to be heard ABOVE the hum of the crowd. From my vantage point, I could only catch snippets: “OZONE smell,” “dressed like a GNOME,” “told her to get stuffing.” Amused by the phrases and bemused by the idea that my poor hearing distorted the words, I idled away an hour between flights.

Georg’ann

Lately waves of nostalgia 
about Seminary Square Kroger. 
Remember cows in the field
along the railroad tracks
where now black top paved
parking lot, B-line trail. 
Childhood trips with, or for, 
my mother. Notes she’d write
asking to sell me cigarettes,
Benson and Hedges 100. 
Watched needle bounce
on the produce SCALE  
as I weighed every option. 
Danced in the aisles, 
read bride magazines, 
bought a garden GNOME
I thought was cute. 
Conversations with arms full. 
Almost an extension 
of our kitchen, barely dressed
hair a mess, run in quickly 
with flour streaks, pjs under coat.  
50 years shopping this store. 
Melting pot location, it’s known  
to have highest theft rate 
of any Kroger in the nation.

Heather

Go ROGUE, she said, let loose.
A tentative attempt, a quavering voice…
La la la, up and down the SCALE.
Be patient. It will come.
WHILE warming up,
in the midst of practice,
it came: she was unleashed.
No longer in EXILE,
her voice filled the room.

Georg’ann

EXTRA weight in air, interactions.
Homecoming feels like EXILE.
Not wanting to belong here.

She says keep writing
the next true line.
Poems are photographs,
only one moment captured.

Obligation to soften, write kindly.
Not let that last line be true.

Heather

Nervously, I pace back and forth, uncertain if I have my PITCH READY for the BOARD. There is a lot riding on developing a new image and logo. I look at my watch, almost time. Glancing through my materials, I review the new slogan, the new color palette, all adding up nicely to a fresh feeling for our BRAND.

Georg’ann

Buying Greek HONEY
infused with thyme
drizzled into yogurt
is SCANT reminder.
No BRAND recreates
experience of place.
Tongue appreciates
your sweet attempt

Heather

Adventures of a cat

PROUD kitty wanders through the house, with a little SPUNK and attitude. Playful swipe at a GUPPY in the fishbowl, only to be rendered JUMPY by an unexpected noise nearby. 

Georg’ann

Errr, need to make a QUICK run to the store. We’re out of SUGAR. I promised to make cookies for the staff meeting. Not even 8, already this morning has been BUMPY. Added to my own woes by drinking too much coffee on an empty stomach. Added that JUMPY feeling to the already accelerated pace. Trying to settle so I don’t start a domino chain of disasters.

Heather

Sitting with a complex set of feelings, I wish that I could WAIVE the duty and sense of responsibility that got me here. But I can’t do that without an OVERT repudiation of myself. It’s a part of me to be a caretaker, to care, to love. But I don’t want to be a member of the special group, a card-carrying member of the COVEN of self-sacrificing sisters. This is hard, I whine. I don’t like it, I shout. I wish this were, instead, a subplot in my life’s NOVEL rather than the central plot trajectory for the foreseeable future.

Georg’ann

Even in sleep I move toward
LIGHT. Head angles just so
brightness from the street lamp
comes through crack in curtain.
Unnecessarily intense beam
direct on my eyelids, I wake.
Not a night when turning away
will return me to slumber.
Sleepy thoughts murmur.

Remember other streetlights,
porch lights. Beacons in darkness.
That time she decided
I was to BLAME. Shoved me out.
Warm, misty air formed halos
around each bulb, gentle orbs.
Guardian angels guiding my path.
Stirs feeling from many a NOVEL.

Heather

A functioning HINGE is a pretty important little piece of hardware. It builds in flexibility, allowing inflexible things to REACT to momentum without the risk of a BREAK. In this moment of tension and DREAD, when the world feels tight and rigid, I look to the plates of brass on the door, looking for how to bend and not shatter into a million pieces.

Georg’ann

DECAY sustaining 
complex networks 
interwoven DREAD 

Heather

Sisters

There is an expectation, I think, that when you grow up in the same family, there will be more ways that you are ALIKE than not. But, the reality can play out very differently. It is, perhaps, more like this: that the things we get from family explain only part of us. We are made up of so much more. I am trying to help you. And, right now, in this stressful moment, you are teetering on one STILT, and I am running around after you, trying to hand you the other. How we each react and respond to this precariousness both seems recognizably the same (ah yes, we are siblings) and drastically not (ah yes, we grew up in very different worlds).

Georg’ann

EXTRA tired this morning.
Eyes blurry, hard to focus.
Attempts to take STOCK
of the week ahead fall away.
Brain not engaging.
Body STIFF, stretches necessary.
Late yet STILL need to practice,
start week on solid foundation.
Reach, bend, twist, breathe.
Pour water over grounds
standing on one leg
balance like a STILT.

Heather

Afraid that perhaps I will FLUNK out, if not out of school, then well, perhaps life, I wander the university, dodging the STEAM vents on this hot day, finally landing in one of the many ATRIA scattered across campus. 

Georg’ann

Saturday Night, Kroger Parking Lot

IMAGE of his back to me, 
waiting. Does he think 
I will in fact decide 
to drive him home. 
Am I what he’s waiting for. 
He’d said that’s where he’d be. 
Red jersey, white arms, 
all else dark
under streetlight. 
Grocery sack retrieved 
from his RIVAL. 
Missed the bus, set loose
late night TRAIN of events. 
Sweaty when he approached. 
“Haste” in orange marker
written down the inside
of his left forearm. 
Brown eyes imploring. 
Momentary chaos interrupts. 
Sending us in different directions.
Wordle let me have it, ARTIC. 
No matter the spelling, 
ATRIA feel cold as I drive away
in the opposite direction.
 
I could have gotten him a cab.

Heather

Hay

Waving a BLADE
Securing the BELAY 
Ready for the BALER

Georg’ann

Donna and the tea stains 

Each receipt she sends
tucked into a work of art. 
Today’s IMAGE emerges
from LAYER of dried tea bags. 
one dark from hibiscus, 
then PALER shades of tan.
Finds form, fills details 
with pen and paint. Here 
a farmhouse sits by 
field dotted with ochre cubes, 
green BALER rests by the barn. 
Bucolic impressionism
brings Laguna Beach lady
to Ohio, her childhood home.

Heather

Bread Day

COVER the dough
I CRAVE the work 
I enjoy the result
Crusty, golden CURVE

Georg’ann

Independence Day

In the Hamptons there’s a shortage,
not enough imported MELON 
for the holiday weekend. 
Each one comes from Japan,
costs four hundred dollars.

On the other coast masked 
men with military vests, guns
handcuff a man selling barbecue
at a roadside stand with his wife. 
Chickens splayed along a SPEAR
Placid face silently accepting, 
put in an SUV. He’ll be deported. 

In the midwest we WRITE 
of bread, seasides, friendship
while feeling outrage, despair.
Attempting CURVE toward hope.

Heather

The dirt around the GRAVE is still MOIST. Her knees will be wet and a little dirty. She should have known better than to come today.  But in her grief and confusion, she was BOUND to make some mistakes. Like buying an arrangement with an oddly POOFY bow. The next rainstorm will be sure to flatten it, and from the looks of the sky, it wasn’t far off. Looking around the cemetery, she understood why there were so many artificial flowers on the graves. The lily that never lost petals, the intact POPPY turned to a sun-faded red.  She looked at her bouquet of delphinium, baby’s breath, white roses. Really more suited to a bride than a corpse. Symbolic, perhaps, of the complexity of the moment.

Georg’ann

SPARE moments went 
to a friend, as they often do. 
She asked nothing, 
gave no space. 
90 minutes passed, 
PLUCK went energy 
from an affable solitude seeker
with dance card too full. 
POINT her once again 
toward the train, 
quiet ride alone looking
at blue twinged wheat fields
dotted with crimson POPPY.

Heather

QUERY from deep within
Am I ethical? Kind?
SCOUR the edges
Bring the dark to light
Vow to INCUR as little
karmic debt as possible

Georg’ann

Colors ROUSE sleeping soul.
Tones muted, worn. Softened
by age, sun, salty air.
Ancient. Settled into stone
surfaces, twisted wood
so dark it seems BURNT.
Vibrant flowers vine into curtains.
The sea, oh the sea.
Spectrum of blues-
azure, topaz, teal, aqua, cobalt.
Gladly willing to INCUR debt,
return again and again and again.
Here soul has become
harder to wake, tired
yet cannot rest.

Heather

Digging about in the garden, I wonder at the vigor and POWER of the ecosystem at my fingertips. I uncover tiny LOCAL flora and fauna, abundant and busy. What FOLLY to think that I can impose an order and shape on this marvelous, natural chaos! Why, the simple turning over of MOLDY leaf yields a whole world. I am humbled by the earthworm and the ant.

Georg’ann

Shower Questions about Caitlin:

Is she more river or OCEAN?
If a SPORT which would she be?
Knitting: delicate DOILY
or bulky sweater?
More likely to find MOLDY item
in laundry or refrigerator?

Question for you:
What is the purpose of this game?

Heather

She is thinking a lot these days about how to manage time. It is often feels like a dilemma between being responsible and doing all the things (truly, the list is endless) or being completely idle. Today, she ponders whether or not it would be WORTH it if she CAVED in FULLY. If the short-term gain of some BLISS would be so delicious that it would balance the risk of the world collapsing if she didn’t hold it up for a day. It feels to her exactly like standing outside an expensive boutique, admiring the BLING or the top tier wine or handmade leather shoes. Deep down inside, she believes that it doesn’t really matter if she buys the fancy items or makes do, the way she usually does. Life, these struggles – in the long run, they are like the BLINK of an eye, transient, temporary. So many things are beyond her control. The moment the thought comes, she feels lighter and free.

Georg’ann

No longer an OCEAN
between us no distance
DRINK you in BLINK tears

Heather

A SPORT of nature, THANK 
goodness, that’s what I am
from the family tree, a mutation 
I am sometimes MUTED
(that cannot be disputed)
But my heart is not BITTY
And I am occasionally WITTY.

Georg’ann

We knew ourselves to be LUCKY.
Exceedingly. Blessed beyond. 
Fortune smiling. Angels guarding. 
Carried this truth as if it were 
the season’s first ripe BERRY. 

AGONY of the world we know, 
less directly. Cognizant, 
striving for perspective 
and purpose. Our pleasures
at times shameful. 

Hall of mirrors, easy to lose 
the way. Reflections overwhelm.
Cannot make a ZIPPY escape. 
Crashing into ourselves, 
all complexity shatters. 
WITTY interlude resets. 

Heather

I set up and EQUIP the space, for soon the hummingbirds will visit. Carefully, I hang a bright red feeder to suggest an abundance of nectar, not just a meager flowering SPRIG. We wait patiently for the tiny birds to find their way to us. I marvel at how they transform a VAPID, PLAIN part of the yard. It is magical.

Georg’ann

Saying goodbye to Nia.

Spoken languages differ.
Connect by HEART, eyes.
Lingering at the table,
Tears make PLAIN
our understanding.

Heather

Every once in a while, I have a clothes crisis. Nothing goes together or things just don’t feel right. This happened the other day. I TRIED first one thing then another. Struggled to find items that did not CLASH with each other. Decided I should pull everything out and try to CLUMP things together. I stared at the piles, trying to see what COMBO I was willing to wear. And I did exactly what you would expect: I pulled out the usual COMFY clothes, the things that I always wear, put them on, and happily went about my day.

Georg’ann

Amused to think of writing
what I’ve just read:
“Apus apus, more commonly known
as a Common SWIFT,
has a constant swift motion.”
Aptly descriptive,
ridiculously redundant.
These are weak footed birds
with unsettling erratic flight.

Flashes of movement
above the LEAFY trees
that line the cliffs in layers.
From my COMFY perch
distant blue grey sea
meets pale sky.
Inward and below,
dark green treetops
appear as if a nearby field.
Out the balcony doors
unobstructed space to fly.

Heather