• My Poems

    Cocoon-{a #poem}

    I slip on this chosen shelter, hide within silken walls and wonder— How long will these layers hold? Fragile pearlescence surrounds me- who’s to say? My shattered self is still, waiting. Gauzy quiet and singular, barren days envelop me by the hour. I take pains with my words, listen more, defy the urgency of unnecessary things. Spinning a private insulation preserves me heart and mind, a soundless cushion while my soul heals. —– No one can chart a butterfly’s birth. Not really. Skin is shed, the surprise of color shocks as wings unfurl, breathing life into deep- down cells. Chrysalis—gold. All that remains when death is past and days have…

  • Life in General

    The Body of Memories-September 11th

    I met a friend recently for lunch at a park near my home, desperate for her company and encouragement. Nerves were frayed, emotions out of whack, reserve tanks anything but reserved. I apologized in advance for my undone condition. As I attempted to articulate my very frail feelings, blaming my 4 am wake-up call after a night of worrying about my new book, her simple response was, “You’re exhausted, Jody. No wonder you’re on the brink of tears.” “Plus, it’s almost September 11th.” Until she voiced the obvious, I wasn’t aware that, too, was weighing on my mind. Our bodies have memory and you’re remembering that day. —– In September…

  • On Writing

    That September Day

       The soft and subtle glow of the sun sits right side of my shoulder. Bumper by bumper, we move at a close and constant pace while I relish the music washing over me. Grateful to not be harried and hurrying homeward,  I turn up the volume and conduct the air while I make the most of the slow wheels, asphalt-wise. The twang of guitar, the soft snare and notes weave together, while a piano taps out a tune as if played by a nimble kitten.  A single voice enters the song, sending me back to a time when my mother sang these very same words. That was a long…

  • My Poems

    The Kindness of Strangers {a #poem}

    “That’s what we storytellers do Mrs. Travers. We restore order through imagination. We instill hope again and again and again.”                                                                                        Tom Hanks as Walt Disney in ‘Saving Mr. Banks’ View towards Manhattan from the Brooklyn Queens Expressway. photo J.L. Collins way back then when no one knew the world would crack the next day, we stood there, tourist trappings wrapped around us everywhere. ‘howdy’ I said, that quiet night…

  • My Poems

    Cocooning-{a #poem}

                                  A shell of protection, this choice I’ve made To hide away indefinitely until This fragile, silken wall peels Away revealing new life. The barrier is temporary and thin— Easily broken when the time is right. But now I must collect myself Be still awhile Take pains with my words, listen more, Defy the urgency of unnecessary things. Spinning this private insulation  Preserves me heart and soul In these jostling, jarring times. Whispered prayers for new life to come as I emerge from this case of gauzy gray. Chrysalis–gold. All that remains when death and destruction…