Just Playing


A new day

This simple motel parking lot view of Lake Superior is the very first picture of my new life. It isn’t fancy or as breathtaking as some pictures, but this one view held all the promise and hope of a better path forward. And it has become the photo that I think of as my initial step. Getting here. Well, I am here and I am loving it!

Nothing is ever easy and my little tribe here has had some major ups and downs, but we are climbing our way up and have no intention of taking any steps backward. We’ve let the negative go back where it came from and now we go forward.


Islands of Grey

She opens her eyes and all is grey.

Hard grey concrete.

No sun

No light.

Bars blocking all reach.

How did this happen?

How did she end up on this island of grey?

She had it all.

Where did it go?

Does anyone remember her, care about her?

Does anyone still love her?

Simple letters, words on a page, remind her we are still here.

Do the others have that?

Does anyone care about them?

Do they get those simple words, simple letters?

There comes a point when life off the grey island feels like a made up fantasy.

Kids, mothers, fathers, friends, jobs, dreams, ambitions.


But there was a time when it was all real.

Could it ever be real again?

Islands of grey make those fantasies concrete.

Concrete in need, in fear, in desperation.

Concrete in a mind that fights against the island.

Fights to hold the fantasies, the past, the future.

These islands of grey are islands of despair,

Holding the weight of all wrongs down on each woman

Until she can no longer breath under the weight.

Wild birds locked in a cage.

These wild birds crave their freedom, the wind beneath their wings,

The smiles of their love, their children, their mothers and fathers,

Brothers and sisters, friends.

She opens her eyes and all is grey.

Hard grey concrete.

No sun

No light.

Bars blocking all reach.