I forgot what I wanted to tell her,
I forgot my name;
she stopped smiling.
the ride to the hospital wasn’t all that special.
Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.