When I was a boy The rolling hills of my soul Were wide open. For tromping about Wild and free, Unafraid of mistakes. Tripping and falling. Making cartwheels out of

One night I left my body I open my mouth, no sound An aura of wondernment, Of curiosity escape My thoughts. From far desolate Corners of my soul. I remember

Memoir: I found a stool in the center of the bar and ordered a club soda. The woman at the end of the bar heard my order turned in my

Emerging from the sea, a mermaid gazes from the silken water. She dives, then rises again to bring a message from the depths, of the stillness within, the secret quiet

Countless days I have stood on sacred ground Watching the rhythm of a low tide bay My feet are firmly grounded in the sand I can feel the softness beneath

blue, azul…yes you tinting the sky; shading night rinsing off my gloom (named after you, what a slight!) with waves of sea spray thank you for your hues that color

Fiction: You can think of each town along this stretch of the 101 as a different woman. Gearhart in pearls, Seaside flashing her cleavage. Cannon Beach all cutesy-cute but fake,

Find Joy Within your palm Our hands joined Next to the blue waterfall Of happiness It’s a kindness That stays put That won’t shut up Cuz its sweet droll Drags

I let the Oceanic Power wash me clean, sweeping away all that is heavy, sorrow, pain, grief, fear, limitation, her wildness stirring me, as I am tumbled in her roiling

Fiction: Baby Ken’s first word was not Mama. It was not Dada or Papa. His first word was Bluie as his tiny little fingers searched for the silky edge of