I am a recovering mind reader, a dancer at heart, a champion of the underdog. I inherited my mother’s green thumb, and my father’s eyes. I am not funny, but love to laugh.  I can stand on my head away from a wall, and I leave backpacks full of mind-gunk in the Indian Peaks. At last, I am becoming better in dealing with change.
 
I worked for thirty years as an Assistant Federal Public Defender. Representing Gary Davis, executed by the state of Colorado in 1997, is one of the most profound experiences of my life.  I’ve been married to the same man and lived in the same house, an old constantly-remodeled Victorian, for 36 years. Our son and his family live nearby.  
 
It seems as if I’ve been writing poetry my whole life.  But fifteen years ago, I realized that, while I had been busy with family, career and community, some golden seeds in me (we all have them) had not been watered and given enough light. So I decided to be a poet, not simply write poetry.
 
My poetry has been published in a variety of fine literary journals, including Aries, Calyx, Illya’s Honey, Main Street Rag, Plainsongs, Pinyon, Slant, Sow’s Ear, Tiger’s Eye, and others. 
 
Love, death, forgiveness, letting go, acceptance, regret.  Don’t all poets address the root questions about life—what happens after death, why are we here, how can we live a good life? Aren’t we all engaged in the search for meaning?

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