One brisk, beautiful morning back in April 1992, my husband Chris and I got up and decided to go to the park to relax. He knew how much I enjoyed feeding the ducks and swans. The park with the pond…

I wrote this poem in 1999 to an Australian friend who also didn’t want to stay in contact with me. I tried to reason and nurture him in his state of pain, but he wanted nothing of it. So I…

I wrote this poem in the early nineteen-eighties. It symbolizes all the lessons and all the experiences I have had as a disabled person. I spiritually and physically danced through each and every event in my life. Instead of making…

  In 1984, my mentor, Robert, and I went for one of our walks. Above us, a blackbird soared, silhouetted against the blue sky, with something in its beak. The bird landed. We tip-toed as close as we could. As…

In the mid-1980s, when I was in my twenties and single, I met a man in one of my B’nai B’rith social groups. He was handsome, down to earth, and he captured my attention in a way other men had…

In 1983, I wrote this poem about my friend Robert, and how we truly nurtured each other’s thoughts and feelings, and knew how to let our inner child out to play. Every day, we took a walk to relax after…

I wrote this poem in March 1981. I was searching, and felt as if I had been seeking all my life—for truth—for a reason why, and to rest for a while. Thus far, this feeling has been a constant reminder…

I could have written this poem every day of my life. I wrote it in 1980, when spring had sprung. Nobody wanted to hear me—I was a crip you know, with cerebral palsy—to whatever degree you want to look at…