Chasing radio stations

We used to drive across the prairies.

Chasing radio stations from point to point.

Towns along the railway alphabetical names.

The click of the cassettes or 8-tracks songs play.


The road was more than from point A to point B.

Maps marked, folded and creased, wrinkled deep.

Or crisp and new – unmarked and untravelled – yet!

Snacks in an old shoe box. Thermos of coffee or juice.


You waved at everyone you saw. You smiled too. Journey.

Stopping to help someone in need. Sharing stories, tires change.

Flashing to let someone know they are safe to merge in after a pass.

Trailers and trucks, cars and not so many vans. Thrill of a sports car.


Indian reservations. Resorts temptingly pass by. Fairgrounds to walk horses.

Tall gas station signs along the flat highways. Mountain passes – runaway lanes!

Rain, sun, snow, ice – the highway went on and on. The tires beat the rhythm of the road.

Being a good traveller – pee in the ditch. Drink sun warmed water. Sleep against the window.


Sunshine fading behind hills and headlights coming on. The way sparkled like diamonds alight.

Highways and backroads. Beloved, and horrifying, ‘short cuts’. The way less travelled sometimes.

Familiar landmarks to lead us home. Dancing in the unknown as we go out again. Generations on the road.

A million miles in a truck (or more) and I still love the open road. We all three do. The best thing – to go! Go!


We did a semi-epic but not surprising ‘surprise’ trip to see family for Easter. 16 hour drive that put us in three provinces in a day. Tired but happy to see their ‘surprised’ faces. Packing things better for the trip home. Dogs and boy, husband and wife. Snacks and treats. Old stories and new jokes. Dreams and memories of past drives. How things have changed (seatbelts, smoking and the safety of hitchikers!)  Truckers will still sometimes flash a ‘thank you’ when you blink to let them know they are far enough past to merge, sometimes other drivers wave or smile. Sometimes we visit with strangers at truckstops. Smiling because at 1 am there are no strangers at the gas pumps! Just tired drivers finding their way.

If you are here via dVerse, thanks for coming by. I’m tending bar tonight for Poetics. If you came from another place, please stop by dVerse and meet my brother and sister poets, read their words and enjoy their journey. Share your own. And leave love. Always leave love.

[file not found]

[file not found] as I rack my brain.

What did I name it? [search: |]

the blinking cursor still  flashes.


[error: 404] WHAT? That can’t be

I know it’s there. [webpage moved]

I don’t think SO. Type S-L-O-W-E-R


[voice command unavailable] ugh!

Speak slower, type slower. [restart Y/N]

No. What I really want is to shout at YOU.


[errors are personal] my hubby disagrees.

He says they are just glitches. Hiccups.

[entry not understood, retry? Y/N]


It FEELS personal. Something simple. But no.

[waiting for network response] tap. tap. TAP.

I wonder, will they roll their eyes at us? [o-o]


[file not found] and then the keys slow down.

The search becomes ablzlhd123 instead.

Type slower. Mouth out the letters. S-L-O-W


[search results: 500] ugh. *.* that sucker. Ha!

[unable to open file, source location changed]

Don’t break the electronics. Don’t break the…


Okay Plug in external hard drive. [new device]

oh…no…[format new device?] NO! NO! unplug

Plug back in. [browse folders on external drive?]


Browsing folders. Files. Searching. Finding.

[file not found] no it is not. BUT look! At THIS!

Old photos, old poems, old treasures. Found.


[file not found] is sometimes okay. Just fine.

[save over previous document?] No. Leave it.

Found what I wanted? No. Found what I needed!


This is my form, I came up with it a while ago – you can read a couple more in it here: and


Gay has us thinking about inventing a form all our own at dVerse. This is my form. It doesn’t have a true name yet, maybe [message] form would work?  It takes the messages we get during our day from electronics and other devices and incorporates them into poetry. They become more and can add depth to our musings. Stop by and read the other amazing poets who shared on this.



Treasures lost. Old books. Toys.

A bracelet. Something loaned.

Cherished and then gone. Where?

Some stolen, some given away.

Each one has a memory to it.



Cleaning in an old garden. A ring!

Wondering about her hand, bare.

Kicking stones, finding a crystal.

On the beach a heart of driftwood.

Old book or Tonka toy. Each one.

A treasure found.



Stored away. I wonder, will I see you again?

Packed carefully and left alone. Far away.

I wonder will they be my squirrel nuts,

stashed and waiting for another to find?

Will they still be treasure to another’s eye?



I brought some with us. Photos. Ornaments.

Treasures. Mostly small. Place holders of

memories. Place holders of heart. Of time.

A place. Where we were, or could be. Once.

Each one familiar to the touch. The smell.

A bird’s nest. Feathers. Heartshaped stone.

Old books. A toy. Broken locket. Sweetgrass.



Where your heart is, your treasure will be also.

My heart is on heavenly treasure, to be sure.

But my human parts shudder at the bare life

of a nomad. I need somethings. Having started

anew, like a pirate with a new ship, barren.

I lost treasures dear, and their memories fade.

Starting again with seed treasures, memories.

Memories to grow, with some bits of the old.

Starting new. Starting fresh. Treasures come!


We are talking about treasures at dVerse. I’ve packed, stored, lost and found many over the years. We are in an RV now, and our treasures are small and select. Precious to be sure. Most are packed away, and I pray are safe in their storage – if they are not I’ll mourn I’m sure. I know we are only stewards, and nothing is really our own…and my heart dwells deepest on heavenly treasure, I still find pleasure in my small things of this world and the memories they hold.

Like that

I can’t tell how it feels

Your nerves fire sssst 

Mine tingle and  snap


can tell you it is like…

that first sip of coffee.

too hot to swallow fast

smelling rich of memory


I can’t tell how it feels

Your presence draws

Mine pushes too hard.


can tell you it is like…

that first blossom in spring

the one waiting to open

the one you smell in sleep


can’t tell you how it feels.

Your coolness like a shadow

My seeking the side of sun.


can tell you it is like…

knowing the song in two bars

every word, in your voice

singing my missing parts.


I can’t tell you how it feels.

Your voice close as breath.

My heart pounding hard.


I can tell you it is like…

Finding the missing  part

inside a long packed box

treasure packed too long.


I can’t tell you how it feels.

You right there to touch.

Me, afraid and yet brave.


I can tell you it is like…

Like that, that one thing.

that makes it all make sense

that makes it worthwhile.


Like that. Always like that.


Claudia has us sharing emotions, without naming the emotion, for MEETING AT THE BAR for dVerse tonight. Mine has a mix of emotions, the ones you would find after being away from a loved one for a bit too long, with a bit too much stress, worry and a lot of faith guiding the way. Enjoy the other poets, and remember leave love!

no animals

So you have a life with no animals?

How quiet that must be.

And hair free. You say “care free!”


My life is full of animals big and small!

It can be as noisy as can be.

Hairy, scary, and wild to see.


Wild critters, most tame and some not sure.

Each gives more than it takes.

Freely loving, forgiving, and loyal.


For every mess I clean up, there is love

Freely given, every time, and grace.

They are fools, they are wise.


I bust them sleeping on my pillows

Or leaving a mess on the floor.

When I’m ready to lose it, they come.


Tails wagging, small bodies purring

I can breathe because they love.

Unconditionally, no strings.


Horse kisses from soft muzzles – sweet!

Cow kisses from long rough tongues – uh.

Dog and cat push and nuzzle.


Wild birds come to visit. Soaring, Singing.

Deer sleeping on the lawn. Trusting.

Coyotes sing a choral mashup!


Some days I imagine a life with no animals.

And the silence, the clean seems to appeal.

I am brought back!  I know animals!


I know their ways. I know and love  them.

All God’s creatures, great and small.

We are one too – so we all belong.


Sneaking cookies or sleeping on pillows.

Counter surfing and leaving deposits 

Hair, mud, blood, spit and shit.


Holding them as they enter the world.

Loving them as they sadly leave.

Knowing them through it all.

Know animals? Oh yes I do.

No animals? Not a chance.


The talented Marina is tending bar for us at dVerse and we are talking about animals. I just moved across the prairies with two cats and two dogs, put the cows and horses with trusted friends and let an elder dog stay with a dear friend.  This is the first year I won’t see my cows calve, or have that first spring ride on my horse. But I know we’ll see them again, and that God has a plan. Even in the middle of a wildly crazy mess, there is a plan.