The “old me” and best poppyseed dressing ever

A friend who’s had a much harder row to hoe with her breast cancer than I, says she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be back to “the old me” after chemo. I was lucky enough to skip the chemo; just a lumpectomy and 15 radiation treatments for me. So I’m thinking I don’t necessarily want… Continue reading The “old me” and best poppyseed dressing ever

My poems are in jars

My poems are in jars I keep saying I’m going to do another kind of writing The kind that involves stanzas and tropes But then the strawberries come in at Howards’. In the silken sunrise One picker’s pink sweats, another’s shirt And the ripening berries Stand out like traffic lights. The sweet smell in the… Continue reading My poems are in jars