Of White Clover Blossoms and One-Horned Muskopods

Ah, Wisconsin! Where the landscapes look like patchwork quilts shaken out by gods of earth and sky; and where June is Dairy Month. After the traffic hell that is Chicago, I crossed the border into my home state and pulled over at the first exit for a rest stop. I stretched; my limbs creaked and eased and…

Sketch: The Pond at Fort G— With Duck

I like to cross disciplines by way of increasing my total artistic intelligence. So although I consider myself a writer, lately I’ve been sketching a lot as well. Whenever I am sitting idly and waiting for something, somewhere, I pull out my sketch book and pencil – or in this case, the only pen I had in my purse.…

Folk Poem I: I Am A Fool

I am a fool And I know why: I was born under A bronze, bronze sky A mewling bird Fell from its nest, And died within My mothers’ breast. A warring girl With bronze, bronze hair Called to the wind But none was there; Spoke to the grave With no reply Then something gave In…

American Elections – Confessions of a Former Monarchy

American elections: like a sixteen-year-old girl, we are ever questing for our new hero. He must be someone who will treat us like an equal while protecting us from all the things we can’t handle about adult life. He must do this with the understanding that we get to dump him in a few years. Sooner, if…