Still Saying It

…and we’re not likely to run out of breath any time soon


Just because John’s been gone for 34 years today, doesn’t mean the message is any less vital.  War is over if you want it to be.

See What’s Become Of Me

What time is it, she asks. It’s
almost half past December.
Autumn’s fallen leaves are all
hunkered down out there under
woodpiles, awaiting Winter’s
grisly onslaught. She does not
lift her head or open her eyes.
It’s four fucking thirty in the
goddamned morning, I say,
Go back to sleep it’s
only an opening line.

Six Word Saturday


So Glad To Be Headed Home

No offense to My Beloved Sandra’s family, with whom we’ve been visiting in Maine, and all of whom I love dearly, but–as they know–I’m just not that social and, like all good hermits (especially at this uber-festive time of year) I’m eager to return to my quiet cave. Besides, I have to rest up for their Christmas visit to Vermont.


Want to visit?  Call on Call Me Cate at: SHOW MY FACE