poetry
Framing the silence has become my life’s work. Who am I to call myself a poet? All I know is silence speaks a thousand stories, the challenge is knowing which one is true. Don’t look away: poetry isn’t always opaque. Sometimes it says exactly what you didn’t know you were feeling.

of wolves and green-haired boys
No Comments
In October 2019 a young boy was stabbed to death by a group of bullying teens. We have to do better. Remember Devan.

skrt skrt
No Comments
Suffering through ninja kicks, prickly stubble and waves of love for my baby boy.

trying to get home
No Comments
A poem about trying to find your way home, reflected against the backdrop of a spawning salmon.