Back to the Grind


Back to the Grind 

And just like that, we slid in our slide-outs, hitched up the Outback, and abandoned our tranquil campsite haven to slip back through the wardrobe to a world of work and deadlines……until next weekend! 

Springtime Smiles

 Things that Made me Happy on the First Day of Spring

a hawk swooping into a tree on our campsite 
a long walk with the dogs
a picnic at the top of the falls at High Falls State Park
a family playing colorful parachute ball
turtles sunning themselves on the rocks at the bottom of the falls just beyond the rapids 
a son and his dad flying a kite 
baby fingers on the pine trees 
reading in the sun with my sherpa-slippered feet propped up
the Lionel Richie weekend radio songs
a grilled salmon dinner with my husband 
Welcome Spring 2021! 

A Star Haiku


A Star Haiku ⭐️ 

a twinkling pinhole
in the liner between earth
and heaven: Mom winks



I tried a Random Word poem, inspired by Margaret Simon. I chose the book That sounds like Fun : the Joys of Being an Amateur, the Power of Falling in Love, and Why you Need a Hobby by Annie F. Downs. My five random words are in bold.


Hangriness put me at one 
with the sizzling churros –
my heretical answer 
to workday stress comfort food, 
deep-fried flavor 
flourishing in the heat 
hilarious irony of contrast.

Storm Haiku

 Storm Haiku 

Threats of tornadoes

Sweeping through middle Georgia 

Keep us home today 

Thanks, I Think


A Schnoodle Haikoodle 

Dad has a Schnoodle.

We found him a sweet rescue.

He said, “Thanks, I think.” 

Life TOC



Your Life’s Table of Contents Poem

I once asked a friend named Jill how she got to be such an organized principal.  “I think it was because my mother gave me all her old empty spice jars when I was little,” she replied. “I spent hours and hours organizing those jars in different ways, and so that got me thinking about organization at an early age.”  

A couple of years ago, Dr, Sarah Donovan shared a thought of organizing a presentation proposal on verse in verse. That thought has not stopped spinning in my mind, and I started thinking about how I might write a table of contents organizing my poetry for the poems I have written over these past few years in verse. 


Imagine you are creating a collection of your own work, and try your hand at an organizing poem today using a format like the one below to be a table of contents or any other feature of a book. In this version, for example, Chapter One would be “The Smiles, The Fears, The Laughter, The Tears.”  It would contain poems coded for those themes. 

Kim’s Poem

Your Story

your story
the who
your life
the you

the smiles
the fears
the laughter
the tears

the reading
the school
the lessons
the rules

the truths
the dares
the risks
the prayers

the seasons
the phases
the heartaches
the praises

the family
the friends
the losses
the wins

the adventures
the chases
the journeys
the places

the people
the villains
the heroes
the champions

the daybreaks
the sunsets
the victories
the regrets

the plans
the dreams
the truths
the seems

the joys
the sorrows
the yesterdays
the tomorrows

the hurdles
the grit
the drive
the quit

the tables
the meals
the loving
the feels

the mysteries
the talks
the rides
the walks

the hobbies
the fashions
the pets
the passions

the hopes
the wonders
the worries
the blunders

the questions
the choices
the answers
the voices

the moments
the chances
the music
the dances

the living
the times
the memories
the signs

your story
the who
your life
the you

Morning Steam Fog On the Pond


Morning Steam Fog On the Pond 

On my morning drive 

when the steam fog 

rising off the pond 

in the still air 

hangs out to play tag 

with the rising sun,

I’m mesmerized.

Strata of layered mists, 

like stacked flat 

bunk bed sheets, linger. 

Steam-swirls of my 

fresh-ground coffee 

rise up, fleeting, 

against the windshield 

to glimpse other 

vapors vanishing 

into thin air. 

The long pond grasses glistening with dew, 

shallows rippling 

with flitting fishes,

bring cottontails 

and wading birds 

to nibble at the edges 

of a world 

teeming with life.

I sit at the stop sign

admiring the view 

until someone pulls up 

behind me

urging me along. 

More than I will ever see 

this picture of tranquility, 

feel it deep in my soul.



Snippets of Phone Conversations on March 13

6:56 a.m. – Dad

Dad:  “…just got back from our morning walk through the village, and playing off-leash in the dog park….this dog has me in training…..did you know Kona even has her own piggy bank for all the change we find?…..” ( I smile and my heart melts) 

10:50 a.m. – daughter 

Daughter: “Mom, you should see this Shark Ion Robot. Andrew’s parents got it for us and we named it R2D2…..It has the aura of a pet….we talk to it like it’s our dog…..does it seem strange, having petlike feelings for a vacuum?” (I chuckle, feel blessed at the miracle of my grown child)

12:55 p.m. – neighbor

Me: “Yes, we can hear the planes….No, we are not the ones flying them…..I’m so sorry the noise is disturbing you…….I’m not sure if they have to have a permit for an air show, no…..”(I shake my head and roll my eyes)

1:10 p.m. – husband 

Me: “He just called me, too….yes….I told him we don’t even own a plane……,So how is the very same one who shoots an entire bucket of tannerite at random times and practices target shooting every Sunday afternoon complaining about the air show noise???…..” (I throw my hands up, like a student trying to make sense of a logical fallacy…)

Just to Listen


 I was inspired by Fran Haley yesterday to write a mirror section of her poem Listen. I started and ended with three of her words (in italics) and used her repeating word throughout. Thank you, Fran!  

…Just to listen

thud of dogs diving, bed to floor 

collar tags tingling, jingling 

to greet the wee hour 

awakening alarmless


ticking toenails on wood floor,

traipsing to the water bowl 

lapping, drinking beard-dripping droplets 

returning to scratch the sheet by my cheek….take us outside!


clicking of leashes (because…the coyotes)

crunch of frozen ground underfoot, trickling rush of fresh mountain springs 

(not really – it’s Schnoodle pee pelting leaves of grass, but I can dream!)


birds chirping start-of-day songs 

delightful ditties

joy for the soul: Live! Breathe! Sing! 


heat clicking on, hot breath of house whispering warmth, clocking out soon as sun streams in for the day shift


clatter of silverware clinking 

kitchen kisses 

love of my life swirling sugary creamer

to keep all bitterness at bay

silence, golden

dogs bedded back down

snuggled next to me on the sofa

snoozing, snoring securely after snacks 

as I sit and write, thinking

how comforting it is

..just to listen