all over the place . . . then poof! . . . gone — Mom was adored by everyone who knew her and it could feel a little invisible to be standing in her shadow. Only belatedly, I see how self-absorbed she was. As a kid, she had frequent ear infections. One of her favorite family stories was telling how her dad got up…

seeking a groove from diverging furrows . . . — My moorings . . . will I ever find my moorings? Twenty-three years into the twenty-first century on the twentieth day stuck in a prompt ponder trying to place my tootsie on some small significance of the cottontail calendar just now hopping into view. My crystal ball is cloudy …

in my wettest dreams . . . — Howling wistful, wild and windswept lightning leapt a quixotic intercept secret yearnings unlocked and unkept a stalking savage barely sidestepped. A turbulent tempest sloshes unduly drooling sluices surge along cruelly a riotous roar hurls pebbles unruly flumes my muddled shudder truly. Tousled pillow dashes needy dreams untamed urges goad odious schemes rabid…

this is what we used to call winter . . . — After a twenty-year drought, California was recently pummeled by rainstorms . . . in three weeks, drenched by ten atmospheric rivers, back-to-back. Not to forsake rain blessings, but such atmospheric rivers inundate a narrow band, relatively speaking. Since our soil has been parched by decades of excessive heat, wildfires, and…

done bopped me a shiner . . . — Last Wednesday, I was out walking my dogs in my wheelchair when the thirty-five mile-per-hour wind was blasting around the corners of tall buildings. The sidewalk gives a slight downhill boost (which I dig) so we were hauling along at a brisk clip as usual. Gusting wind blew me off…

saunter toward the gloaming of stories . . . — Thank you for a wave of holiday cheer to ponder. Selma . . . think of your greatness . . . you matter! Your Place In The All-Encompassing Life of Things A poem about your greatness within the family of thingsmedium.com Cheri Elkin . . . oh hell yeah: And Just Like that I was Seventy-four Years Old I woke up early that Sunday morning in October feeling the presence of someone beside me. I turned over and looked at…medium.com