Black Americans with African ancestry have had an important presence in what is now the United States of America for over 400 years. Yet, there is still a faction of Americans, with a much shorter ancestral history, who want to define certain aspects of our nation’s collective culture outside the realm of African Americans, and one example is country music.

In the doctor’s office waiting room a voice called my name and said, “Your provider will see you now.” Will it be a nurse? X-ray technician, first year intern? acupuncturist? A volunteer who offers water and snacks before my appointment? A physician? It could be any of these.

Take in my Summer travels through the Atlantic Provinces with my husband and traveling companion, Rich, with a video montage.

I clock six hours a day of total time spent with my two best friends. Relatively 21 hours more than I spend with my parents and brother per week. I see my grandparents on my mom’s side for two hours each month now that I am a teenager. My uncle I haven’t seen in over five years, and my one grandpa, who I never got to meet, stayed away my whole life. My point is…

When I asked my friend Abigail Seber if she wanted to be a guest poet on my website, she was very enthusiastic. I suggested she send me a poem she had written or that she could write something new. I was surprised, pleasantly, that she decided to write a poem about me and the memoir I have written.

The science supervisor’s parting words were: “And, by the way, when you arrive at the airport make sure to hire a town car, with a driver who is willing to walk you into the school. I chose a school central to the other high schools, but unfortunately, it is not safe in the parking lot when school is over.

A woman screamed
Somewhere deep in the store
Over my left shoulder.

Everything stopped
As if turned to cement.
Frozen.

I held my breath,
Fists clenched.

I am the fire raging in Rocky Mountain National Park,

Yellowstone, and Sequoia, where our treasured giant redwoods

Now smolder in ruins while

Fire-scorched animals have nowhere to escape the

Walls of flames surrounding them.

My childhood overflowed with treasured

Memories of sounds, smells, and tastes

Bringing me back to that day, that hour,

That minute of bliss.

Thousands of years ago Cleopatra crushed beetles for a red lip potion.
Her words, coming from a red-rimmed mouth, spoke power

Suffragettes applied bold red to their lips
Symbolizing strength, daring, and grit.

My heart stopped. Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t swallow or speak—Columbine still fresh in my mind—thinking how she was only five years old and that she knew about school shooters. Stay calm I said to myself—hard to believe that this tiny, spirited bundle of enthusiasm, buckling her car seat, had learned…

I boarded the plane in Denver, already delayed due to heavy snow on the runways. De-icing the plane was next. Green fluid poured down my window. I looked at my watch. Would I make it to Chicago in time to catch my connection to Newark, and another connection to Rhode Island?

Want to go to Prohibition-era Montana? The Pacific Northwest? Alaska? New Zealand? Modern-day Los Angeles? WWII London? This book will take you on an unforgettable and exhilarating flight you will cherish.

Even though I love all Colorado has to offer in autumn, there is no ocean here. This is the best time to travel to the sea. After being boosted and wearing n95 masks, we flew to the East Coast. We loved our walks with the sanderlings and sea gulls, waves rolling up on beaches in Maine and South Carolina.

My body is a stranger.
But I am determined to make it do the clamshells,
Mini-squats, glute bridges, plantar flexions, and leg raises,
So, I still can bicycle and hike in my favorite forests
And meadows filled with the perfume of wild roses,
The trill of hummingbirds, and the cool breeze on my skin.

Have you ever had a soul mate? We usually think of soul mates as people who are in romantic relationships, but there are other kinds of soul mates. Could they be sisters? Uncles? Children? Let me know if you have had similar soul mates after you read the poems about my three soul mates.

Did you ever see something so exquisite that tears welled in your eyes? If not, go to Crested Butte, Colorado during the summer, preferably in early July. The immensity of meadows filled with enormous numbers and varieties of wildflowers took my breath away.

They defy our digging.
They acquire biological resistance
To annihilation by pesticides.
They rebound after amputation by steel mower blades.
They thrive in burning deserts
And pop up in mountain snowfields.

How is it possible for the pandemic to have a silver lining? In 2020 all of us stayed home hunting for the best streaming series, searching for a tasty new recipe, walking our dogs endlessly around the neighborhood, ordering boxes and boxes and more boxes of stuff from Amazon, and reading our days away.

She holds the syringe above my right arm.Pink liquid glistens in the vial.“Ready?” Her quiet voice is calm.Her fingers grip a bit of my skin and muscle.“Yes,” I barely whisper, a lump in my throat,Also wanting to scream, cry, do a cartwheel. “Yes!” “Yes!”

Soon-- not having to live in fear!