Author Archives: heidi

what I really want to say is nothing just take a long walk alone, my little break from awesome each foot lifted with thought i’d live my slow stepping with cream on top maple yogurt with a bit of  meditative … Continue reading →

When I met with my oncologist in Zion on Friday, he decided to change my treatment plan by replacing one of my chemo medications with another that he says is more effective. He said that his reasons are the way … Continue reading →

“Adult” feels closed in, as if spontaneity must be set aside for proper planning, a perfect shade of blue that never falters. I’d rather grow up on a song and call it love, let its shape evolve with every understanding. … Continue reading →

Hi Friends, This is Heidi, slowly taking dictation for my mom. (I’m slow, she’s not) She says, “I’m sorry I haven’t written anything for a while. I’ve been having pain issues these last couple weeks, but the good news is, … Continue reading →

  My lunch companion, provided by Sandra’s Restaurant I’ve got company in this Louisiana cafe: scattered thoughts, a bit of self pity, cold chicken, hot coffee, and a bright cloth flower. I’d like to have a poem for lunch, but … Continue reading →

we have kansas sun before dusk lighting our westward trail, a case of water, racing winds calling through open windows this is what you prayed for easy laughter, food in a purple plastic box, booster packs of gaming cards, a … Continue reading →

The report from my oncologist on the two scans I took Thursday was wonderful to hear. He said that despite my losing a month of treatment due to the surgery, many of the cancer spots are smaller. Not all, some … Continue reading →

I keep company with what I know I cannot predict or control. Every second for sure, but I forget, mercifully. My reaction, my intention, my hopes, yes, but nothing else. I check as if reading a thermometer. More energy today … Continue reading →

This is the missed one, another midnight dance behind closed eyes, only last night there was no dance, only the memory of what wasn’t. Yesterday’s poem, that I put off until after dinner, beyond the 9pm nap, until all intentions … Continue reading →

When all but my small light have been turned off for the night, when each door closes and a certain quiet envelops the house, I feel pieces of me shimmer with the ticking clock, refrigerator hum, ever so slight ceiling … Continue reading →