I spent a week in the woods at Puget Sound Guitar Workshop, taking a songwriting class from the illimitable Kathy Kallick. After a few writing prompts, I wrote a country song that’s about a woman who keeps walking away from the issues and events in her life: “It’s all because of boot heels on the road…” The chorus goes— Starlight, star bright Her skies are made for stormy weather Starlight, star bright, Her skies are made for rain I’ll post a recording if my sweetie’s ever happy with the music he’s written for it!

Here’s an excerpt from a poem I wrote to two friends as a gift for their wedding.

It rains. Watch closely as they weave and start their pearl-hung mornings. From “The Spiderweb Trilogy” by Adrienne Asher

My poem, “Burning Through Dreams”, has been selected for inclusion in an upcoming issue of The Laurel Review. I’m honored and delighted. The Laurel Review was formed in 1966 at The University of Bridgeport, and is a biannual literary magazine run by GreenTower Press at Northwest Missouri State. Burning Through Dreams Curved around my dreaming I dive deeper. Cities shimmer, war-torn. Your image morphs into a candle flame wavering before me. Streets curve and reform under strange skies. Oceans surge and tower, falling. Lifted by the night’s tsunami, I awake with dreams lying tangled in my hair, the taste of the moon in my mouth. Your memory lies flashing like…

Honored and excited to learn that my poem “The Disappearance of Poems in Rain” was published in the December 11, 2017 edition of Typishly. Many thanks to Jon, founder and editor, for choosing my work for publication. He said “Your poems are unhurried, calming, measured. Like breathing, in and out.” The Disappearance of Poems in Rain I I drew a brief haiku with one wet finger on a windowsill, then rain washed it all away, the drops of water slowly clouding its calligraphy. Ephemeral as the scent of cedar trees, or the spice of woodsmoke drifting through a winter landscape. II We climbed up to the attic, windows dusted with dark…

Jakub Rozalski paints extraordinarily otherworldly scenes. This one caught me so hard that I spent the morning working on a poem about the murder of Santa by Krampus, titled “A Winter Tale.” Snowy field shocked—      (The aisle of blood)

Honored and excited to learn that my poem “Directions for a Writer” has been selected for inclusion in The Passed Note! Thank you so much to the editor, Pushcart Prize nominee Stephanie R. Johnson, for choosing my work for their Issue 7, June 2018 edition. Directions for a Writer Run hatless out the door. Burn your tongue with all the words the songs the soft sounds of awe. Fly far and high. Circle your center. Be still and know you are the question you are the answer. Fill yourself with wonder. Let it spill over your rim flood down your skin send chills dancing. Lean back under the arch of…

This was my first time reading at the monthly open mic at Traditions Cafe in Olympia. Yes, we’ve lived here for almost two years now, but what with one thing and another… Anyway, the poetry flowed from deep-voiced seriousness to slam to sensual to Palestinian. I was touched that strangers came by our table after I read to tell me how much they liked my work. Some even stayed long enough to ask deeper questions. I joined the Olympia Poetry Network, paid my dues, and plan to make a habit of showing up every month to read. Profound thanks to Dick Meyer, for creating such a welcoming space for creativity…

I was honored to be invited to read at this August 26th event, which featured VoiceCatcher Spring ’17 poets. Suzanne Sigafoos was the host for the event and the readers were: Adrienne Asher Sara Bednark Margaret Chula Donna Prinzmetal Barbara Sheahan Arzt My poems are included in the link, below— VoiceCatcher reading at Ford

My poem “As Heavily as Ripe Pears” was published in the Spring 2017 edition of VoiceCatcher. The editor’s praise was generous: “It’s been a very long time since I read a poem as beautifully erotic as this one, erotic in a way that is vital, sound and glorious. Erotic in the light of day, erotic at midnight, and sensuous to the max. In my early reading, I wrote to the other editors: “…this poet may succeed in summoning Aphrodite to earth by use of the third stanza of this poem.” What a celebration this is.” As Heavily as Ripe Pears We kiss and tumble into tangled sheets unsure which tingling body…