Author Archives: heidi

From the age of seven to just before my 21st birthday I was under the impression that every time I sat down with pen and paper or word processor, I should be trying to write something good, deep, moving, complete. … Continue reading →

I rearranged furniture, making a new nest, one where my kids can easily curl up beside me, one away from the picture window and winter’s wisps. When I move the recliner to the east wall where our futon was, I … Continue reading →

Between dawn and daylight I move through a river of sacred moments as thoughts I ache to keep move like beautiful, slow, vanishing butterflies. That’s when I visit Sasha. Barely after dark lifts, snowy sky a mist gray, I’m standing … Continue reading →

unwritten words visit we sit for coffee chocolate cake we spin a slice of mystery a word or two between casual remarks to children weaving worlds nearby a moment arrives i recognize its mesmerizing gaze lean in to hear tuck … Continue reading →

Devyn is 2. We’ve only just moved into our RV. He and I are alone after dark for the first time. Nothing is the same. We’re not in a neighborhood with head lights dragging shadows along our walls, but in … Continue reading →

I begin to wonder about writing every day, or rather posting. Then I tell myself to take a day off, do something else with my free time. But I don’t want to. Writing, hitting publish, reading other blogs, commenting, reading … Continue reading →

A few months after Kori moved more than a thousand miles southwest, I learned algebra with my sixteen year old traveling babysitter (brother of a fellow skater), all the way to her new house, above clickety-clack, clickety-clack, one whole night … Continue reading →

Last night as I meditated on J D Smith’s courage witnessed poetry challenge, I thought of my parents journey that started when I was 15. I was too tired to start writing then, but words, images and something similar to … Continue reading →

If I were to write today I would say outside our front door cold winds blow below zero inside our house dusty towels snuggle against our front and back doors keeping out brother winds skinny fingers I would share a … Continue reading →

As another departs when I must say goodbye until my cage opens someday I pray Aunt Alma, will you hold her hand show him around love her like a mother tell them stories of how you made your way Denise, … Continue reading →