Dating after fifty is not like being twenty — Hi, I’m Louisa and I’m glad to be here again The last time I stopped by to see you I had set up a blind date online for myself And I promised to tell you what happened. Here goes, and this time it won’t be a poem: My stomach felt…

Grandmother from my novel isn’t called Nana — Note: this is a blog post version of a book chapter. Thus, I’ve not added section dividers or more photos. Jemima Cornflower turned to look one more time at the garden she had planted. It was too early for most of the food crops to show if they were growing…

A new way to develop greater depth in your characters — Any of you who read my Medium poems and articles on a semi-regular basis have noticed that I sometimes mention my novel-in-progress, currently titled Burnt-Over Memories. I had planned to spend more time working on it this Fall and spending less time on Medium. I certainly don’t write on Medium…

Eat, drink, and be scary! — It’s Halloween’s month so put away Any sadness or grief, old or new. Place it in little hearth-shaped Pieces of fallen leaves from shedding trees. Banish bad news out of your brain Let’s think only welcoming warm thoughts As we smell and then sip warm mulled cider We may watch a brightly roaring bonfire with wide eyes And…

Some nights strange dreams Filled with and feeling like Deja vu, reliving the past Appear, or do they arise? Unanswered questions appear, Needing their answers still. These dreams often make Me feel alone, on my own Since many traditions Are now dead in this world And old assigned roles No longer apply…

Today’s news headlines awaken feelings of loss — All wars are the same On the ground and at sky level too. That’s where they’re fought, Where soldiers, sailors, Civilians and bystanders die Praying for life, but for too many. This time of death can’t be changed. The war in Vietnam Was the war for my generation. That is, it was…

The characters that live in my subconscious mind are a rowdy bunch at times, interrupting my dreams with their nightly dramas. Some of these dreams feel like pieces of karma, others feel like they ended up at the wrong address when they landed in my dreams. Even the narrator is…

Our resistance to pain — Pain finds the weakest points At the worst times, always Pain is produced in the brain And we have the power to stop it, Or over-power it, science says. At what point does our power lose To pain’s persuasiveness Throughout the brain? How can we silence it, crush it, Break through it to regain Our access to the brain’s More pain-free…

a haiku