Something I wrote when I was 27 and a single mother of four:


“Dream man”


The night was black, soft and woolen.

I couldn’t leave it – not now.

When I thought of tomorrow, it hurt a little to know

That I would be tired – and perhaps a bit grumpy

I ought to sleep

He is sleeping

With heavy, secure breath – he sleeps

He left me – for the sake of morning:

“Darling – we should sleep now – you know – tomorrow – it’s already 2:30. It was a lovely evening. Sleep tight”

I reach out

Then – let him go

Wanting to keep my part of the evening just a little bit longer – I light a cigarette.


Ten years!


For ten years

He has lain there

Evening after evening

Sleeping – for the sake of tomorrow

No, not always

In times long past, he, as well, has talked nights away

Thinking of it now, I realize how long ago this was

He had become old – long before I – had he become old

Perhaps I’ll never get old

Well wrinkled and gray-haired and cozy I would become

But never really old enough for him

Never so old that I would let go of the “now” – the precious “now” – for something unknown

Maybe it was just as well

I suppose one of us had to…

Maybe he grew old for my sake

He was sound – so I could be free

He thought of tomorrow – so I could have today

Such security he gave

He just was

And we lived


Muffled noise

Noise through closed doors and sleepy ears



Bright light


Waking up

Stretching out an arm

Searching for him

He’s not there?


Open eyes

Wondering eyes

His voice in the kitchen

Shushing lively children


Noisy quiet

Secure noisy quiet


I’m awake

Slowly – The smell of coffee seeps into the room

It reaches my nose

Stays – awaits – what is to come

My tongue slips out, licks the sleep off my lips

The aroma of lovemaking, hidden in the sheets, comes to mix with the aroma of coffee

I sigh with well-being

Brush a hand over my stomach

How flat and unassuming it seems

Remembering when it was tight and fertile

It was beautiful then

His hand softly resting on it, patiently waiting for a kick from our child

I’m one with nothing


The door opens – someone is entering

Quickly – I close my eyes

He thinks I’m sleeping

He feels he is giving – and enjoys his generosity

A hand on my hair


So infinitely soft…



Dumb clumsy words

Words so inadequately saying such a fraction of the feelings

Words – words – Words –

The day has caught me…


I’ve made coffee – are you awake?


Zitta – originally written January, 1969

Walking out into my backyard early one morning:


In the pool

The reflection of the sun

Is making flittering patterns on my lace curtain

Nothing stands still

My heart swells in richness

With all that is

All that moves

“Now” is everywhere

The flutter

The movement in my body

Which is stillness

Sinks deep

Into the movement of us all

The oneness

The sameness

I will always be me

I will always be us

There will always be more

All is always here

Zitta – originally written 10/07-2013


Written about six months after Larry and I met at Dance Medicine:

Starting Over

So now I have two men in my life

One tucked away in my heart – forever warming me from the inside out

One touching my skin in ways which warm my heart from the outside in
So you ask me where my secret lies?

And I say:

There is no secret

There is passion
There is always passion

Passion for teaching and learning – become one

Passion for words and song – become one

And passion for dance and lovemaking – become one

I shall forever seek
And I shall never find

For after one “find” there will always be another

Zitta –originally written 4/17-2013


Two songs I wrote for Richard but never recorded. In the last month or so I’ve tried over and over to record them, but I’m no longer able to sing them. I realize that they could only be sung to him. So here they are without the tune:

Next Door

In a Blue House
In a room, softened by Christmas Lights

We sing
We stand
On the ground

In the songs there’s strength
In the air is care
We share
We are truly there

Next door
A heart is searching
Blinded by fear
Next door
the heart opens up
For a man to yield
– inviting the songs to heal

Zitta –originally written 11/4 – 2007


All My Life

All my life
You were there
All my life
We would share

Now time is changing
Is running out
And we will exit
Where we arrived
No doubt

What seemed decades
Is now hours
What was red passion
Is now white calmness
What was ecstatic
Is now gentle warmth
Slowed down

Hand in hand
We face life
As always together

Hand in hand
We face
The unknown
The ultimate

You and I

Zitta –originally written 01/20 – 2012 (Richard’s last birthday)