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…

I wrote this poem because I love nature, not just flowers, but the beauty of it all, and what it does to me. When I was very little, I noticed when I was outside observing, I would make little or…

I wrote this poem one glorious spring day in April 1979. At the time, I was young, and things seemed to be looking up for me. I had just won the Civil Rights case that guaranteed access to higher education…

One day in 1979, as feelings from my past reminded me of who and what I was, I wrote this poem. The day I wrote it was not ordinary, not like every other day. That day, for some reason, memory…

This poem was written in 2020, about a friend who disappeared from my life. It was during the COVID-19 pandemic, and I had fallen. Broke my wrist. The doctor could not set it in a cast. It was that serious…