Through changes in my life came particulars in writing.

Amusing myself with presuming self-confidence, yet peeking into what may lie ahead in years passing quickly came Grey hair as On the other side preceded a space where I once strolled as a much younger lady and carried inside all this time.

With the dizzying, up in the air, Can you cook, a vehicle boiling with me inside it to viewing a remembrance of years past in the Italian village surrounded by the big city where I grew up in They were there. I can vision it today and odors that leave with me as I walked through the door.

As some of my poems seem a collage of a large, colored puzzle, they have met as a quilt halfway through a journey not easily put together. Such poems from my heart, such as Frozen steps, Pink days, and many others, I have a heartfelt passion for always in my love, for homie.