STARDREAMING With Sherry Blue Sky

  This poem is the breath of dawn on a windswept morning at the edge of the sea. This poem is a murrelet on the wing. This poem is a grey wh...

Maybe it's the brown dog, who was dying in Mexico, before she was adopted and brought to the beach, who flinches when the rocking chair ...

Totem by Joe David,  Tla o qui aht artist and carver It's the smallest things..... after days of overcast skies, it's blue and cloud...

  In deep woods, the trees await us. "Announce your presence; they know you are here," the young Tla-o-qui-aht woman tells us. She...

  If I could rewrite history,  (or herstory) would I? So many poor choices, flailings and fumblings, so many ways I was less than I could or...

  My grandma's cottage, the cornerstone of my childhood Sanctuary. I sought it down all the shambling years. I finally recognized that  ...

  "May my heart always be open to little birds," the poet said.* Oh, mine is always listening for their song. My heart is open, to...