At my grandmother’s place

I dreamed in a pink canopy bed

under a heavy wool crazy quilt

pieced by her grandmother

and embroidered with hope

the initials of family women

Still now the quilt is stashed

in my hope chest as I wrap 

dreams around a girl answering

to the the name of my mother

my grandmother and her mother

and hers and I hope against hope

Today is the 11th birthday of the runaway sentence!

Of course time is weird so that seems like a long/short time

and it seems we’ve lost a year and are working on another

and anyone reading this can tell my writing patterns

have certainly changed and not for the better but still I hope

and dream and have some ideas about changing this place around

so watch for that in the coming year and thank you,

gentle readers, for persisting. Peace and love.