there is good reason i avoid, dodge that dreaded question, “where do you see yourself in five years” I’ve always known, deep in my bones, dreaming is futile
do you ever wonder about karma? were we so horrible, we two, in some distant past life to have reaped such a high toll in this one?
ignore me, I’m thinking out loud again. we should really think about…a ramp, and one of those remote control beds it might help you, help me, help both of us, get some sleep
~kat
Na/GloPoWriMo Day 10 Prompt: Today, write your own meditation on grief. Try using (Geoffrey) Brock’s form as the “container” for your poem: a few short stanzas, with a middle section in which a question is repeated with different answers given.
Your Glimmer for today…look what I found on my morning walk with Gabby. Not sure where it came from or who it belongs to, but isn’t it lovely! Quite the work of art I’d say! And a confirmation that spring is in full swing!
I’m a terrible dancer you don’t need to remind me I suppose I’ll just sit here then hold up the wall and watch, as you cut a rug, show me how it’s done…I’ll just tap my toes under the table so I don’t embarrass you when we’re out in public, awkward me, with my two left, flat feet, stiff hips, and too-long, flailing, orangutan arms. you don’t need to remind me
I’m a terrible dancer the trees don’t seem to mind though when we start to sway in unison my golden locks, their lush, sage leaves tossed by a gentle, cool spring breeze the tall grass bending gracefully beneath my bare feet, caressing my skin as the loam hums, birds trill, the hills swell in harmony, bird and butterfly wing flutters sending whispers of breath past my ears… I lose myself like dandelion fluff twirling, twirling lightly on a dream the trees don’t seem to mind though I’m a terrible dancer
~kat
Na/GloPoWriMo 2026 Day 8 Prompt: use a simple phrase repeatedly, and then make statements that invert or contradict that phrase.
Always good for a glimmer…my dear sidekick Gabby. She is doing so well these days. On an herbal concoction from our holistic vet after our seed tick scare last month. The supplement aptly names I think…”Gracious Power”! You go Gabby Girl! ✨💚✨
i like the dawn golden in hues, powder blue with lemony mist creep-creeping mid-tree east window undressed to take in the view to rise with the sun, the first sight I see past settling dusk I prefer shadows cool the slightest white twinkling star canopy darkness as black as a patent black shoe to swallow me whole into rem cycle sleep but windows exposed to the fullest of moons send me wearily toward sheer insanity I could cover the glare but I’d miss the dawn too restless nights produce poems laced with lunacy
~kat
Na/GloWriPoMo 2026 Day 4 Prompt: craft your own short poem that involves a weather phenomenon and some aspect of the season. Try using rhyme and keeping your lines of roughly even length.
I may hop back on later today to share another glimmer. But at least for now, the moon though my side window tonight should be glimmer enough!
I love my naked windows most of the time. Mornings especially…and throughout my workday. And even most nights…except on those nights when the moon is full. As you can see I have a direct view of the moon when it is days before and days after a full moon. It makes me question my interior decorating practice of no window dressings for our house on the edge of the woods. Then dawn arrives and I find myself grateful for the view once again!
Can something that drives you bananas still be a glimmer? I’ll let you decide that for yourself. As for me…this evening’s glimmer became inspiration for a poem. As tired as I am that it’s going to take a few minutes longer before the moon passes through…I made good use of the time, and have a fun little poem to show for it. A glimmer in disguise so to speak. So that would be a yes for me. With some glimmers you may have to look for the silver lining!
there are angels living among us with years of education, clinical training, decades of fixing, managing, restoring… all tossed to the wind to attend to a soul, to quiet the angry flesh that binds it, gently redirecting faltering hearts to embrace mortality with grace, to enter the unknown known… ER urgency, ICU diligence, code blue, crash carts, extreme, experimental, extraordinary measures dismissed, while convincing their charges to join them having broken free themselves from all that their worldly title implies, their mission now simply, compassion, comfort, communication… they have learned how let go control with purposeful intention, to escort souls in transition some people call them nurses, but I am convinced they are angels it takes an angel who knows the way to direct us safely through the darkness to the other side toward the light
~kat
Na/GloWriPoMo 2026 Day 3 prompt: write a poem in which a profession or vocation is described differently than it typically is considered to be.
Today’s glimmer is my crow friend. He comes by sometimes just to watch. He knows I see him. I know he sees me watching him. There is something extraordinary about being acknowledged by another living soul who makes its presence known with intention. We do this, we two, my crow friend and me, together. I see you seeing me, seeing you, and I choose to pause in your presence for a few magical moments.
We don’t actually speak, but we both know. And that is enough, and everything!
Much love, peace, and glimmering presence to you. I see you!
The Doe’s Motel circa 1955….photos by the current owner on yelp in 2026
the doe’s motel
twelve is that awkward age in the best of times, sweaty, smelly prepubescence with a touch of self-consciousness, breast nubs, and pimples, no matter where home happens to be, in a tidy cul de sac with a mailbox at the end of a paved driveway, edged by a meticulously coifed lawn with a lavender phlox border or at the Doe’s Motel on Route 45 in Libertyville, home to a family of eight kids who shared three rooms, the oldest boy, a paraplegic who could swim like a fish in the kidney-shaped swimming pool and us, my dad, mom, sister and me, third kitchenette unit from the end, the only room with a colored TV, bought by my dad, with special permission from the reservation office, to make it feel more like home… normal is just a setting on a washing machine
I don’t know why it pops into my head all these years later, I don’t need remembering now with a steady roof, a proper address, a mailbox, cupboards always stocked, categorized, alphabetically, in tidy, unsettling rows, labels facing out, and a mortgage paid on time, the first bill paid every month year after decades before groceries, before anything, with a steady 9 to 5, give or take, to sustain it all, I’ve come a long way from the Doe’s Motel…I have…
imagine my surprise to discover it still stands, an RV stop these days, reminding me how fragile life is for survivors… that kidney-shaped pool is paved over now, but the ghosts of us swimming like fishes that summer of 1968… I remember us swimming all too well
~kat
Na/GloWriPoMo 2026 Day 2 prompt: write your own poem in which you recount a childhood memory. Try to incorporate a sense of how that experience indicated to you, even then, something about the person you’d grow up to be.
Time for a glimmer…in the midst of a deluge of storms yesterday afternoon well into the night we had a brief glimmer of sky and the setting sun at dusk. Proof that even in the midst of a storm…there are glimmers to be found!
Much love, peace, and glimmers in the storm to you!
So it is easier for you to find all the parts/chapters of my ongoing fiction series, I created a new page that lists all the links. You can check it out HERE!
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