When I write as a poet sometimes I use real things which have happened sometimes reporting them faithfully and sometimes having to convey...

I tried to capture the essence of what still birth means to the mother. This poem was first published in The Sacred Feminine: Open Skies...

Pursed lips above a downward gaze, jaw tight as the slamming sledgehammer cracking ice like walnut skulls. Muscles bulging and arms...

This starts off as tongue in cheek, but conveys a real message that there is a vibrant life after menopause. My undercarriage has slipped...