I have two poems in the current issue of The Rush (Mount St. Mary’s University). Here is the first:



It was on the rise

behind the blueberry bushes,

blue-black with fruit.


I don’t know

what drew me there

since my bucket was full,


but a small stone

stairway made its

way up the rise.


I imagine a homestead

once stood above—

but could find no trace.


I took the stairs

up then down

then up again


calling out, “honey

I’m home,”

echoes died to stillness—


a quiet

that predated man’s

invention of time,


as I sat on the top

step in the late

morning sun,


feasting on berries

and daydreaming

of home.

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