I have walked far with what I have.

I have always appreciated my feet, even if they are just a little bit too big. They work well. There do appear to be some irregularities of my foot form, stance, and weight distribution, but I have walked far with what I have. In years past I have written two poems about my feet, go figure why. Feet Poem #1 Oh, these feet of mine. I depend upon them, stand upon them, count upon them to step forward into the future. Trouble is there has been too much past, years and years of it. I am on the shady side of fifty—fifty-seven to be exact. and my dogs are barking, baying at the moon about how old I am. They have something to say about every twist and turn, every step, skip, and hop-along. And m

Mango for breakfast

The fragrant mango reminds me of mango trees in Mali, West Africa where each fruit was a treasure, and I often ate them for breakfast with guilt due to the impoverishment of my Malian neighbors who were often consigned to one bowl of vile millet porridge per day, and rail thin to prove it. I myself returned to America so thin my menses had stopped. One must never sleep under tall mango trees. Even though they are very generous with their shade which makes them very attractive in the African heat, mango trees are also generous with their fruit and will randomly release it to the ground with loud, weighty thumps that would be hurtful to one’s noggin. In 1980, I lived in a small village about

Featured Posts
Recent Posts
Archive
Search By Tags
Follow Us
  • Facebook Basic Square
  • Twitter Basic Square
  • Google+ Basic Square

© Sale of this content is prohibited and infringements will result in consequences.