Wiping the Sleep From My Eyes

sometimes I awaken
wrists and ankles crossed
as if in bondage to sleep
I untangle myself from dreams
to face a new day

in my shower I sing songs
with words known only to myself

morning has rituals
a choreography of steps
morning has silence
blessed silence gladly found
a sense of seclusion

some would say
I am not a morning person
this is true, I do not spring
from my bed hungry
for news of the world

that small portion
of time
is mine
to savor
like hot buttered toast
I am spiritually fed

Published originally in:


A collection of 23 poems:

Self-published for Western Washington University Staff Art Show, June 1998.
A copy of this chapbook is in Western Washington University Special Collections
in Wilson Library.




The bone white snag above Beaver Creek fell
down in a storm. It was a two-tined fork pointed
skyward, a favored perch of magpies, its alabaster
brightness a cynosure obscured the trees beside it.

It began to lean after heavy spring rains saturated
the ground, we thought it might take down a tree
beside it but instead sheared o only a few limbs.

Now the space it occupied appears gap-toothed,
and gone forever is its sculptural beauty—that fork
tuning the wind—will be missed until memory
of it fades and what is not there is what is there.


Published in – Clover: A Literary Rag  Vol. 13, Summer 2017 & Resting in the Familiar


To Get Rolling

Christine rolling hay bale

My site is up and I am adding poetry to it and will continue to do so.  I have already enjoyed connecting with other poets.  This year I am trying to read poetry every day.  I do buy books of poetry so have a good collection to draw from.  Last night I read half of the poetry in Raising Lilly Ledbetter: Women Poets Occupy the Workspace.  I highly recommend this book.