Though she has not had her fill of mountain trails, of late, Christa has settled for lesser walks. She finds her time caring for her husband a difficult and satisfying part of her life now. Her most satisfying work has been as a hiking guide through wonderful landscapes both here and abroad. Her poetry has appeared in the beautiful pages of The Write Launch as well as Haunted Waters Press, Cathexis Northwest, Beyond Words and a Willowdown Books anthology and others.
“when the barn owl hoots no more,” “no trace,” and “again”
when the night’s
dark eyes won’t lift their lids
the sun
won’t cheer the day awake
storms
lose their breath
oceans
forget their flow Read more.
“Angel Fire, New Mexico, August 2020,” “Passing Down Recipes” and “Tenderness”
we landed here
a reprieve
from Arizona heat
from reminders
of a house needing
paint and spackle
and a yard drowning in sun Read more.
“It came,” “Dropping in” and “Playing with Metaphor”
It came rustling through the mangrove forest
howler monkeys with their megaphone voices
heard long before seen swinging through trees
on sweltering Costa Rica mornings
the pacific surf came rolling
sometimes pounding and sometimes
playfully lapping the black volcanic sands Read more.
“Absence Under the Eaves,” “Elfride’s Father” and “The Book”
folks rarely stopped by our flat
high under the eaves
maybe a bill collector
or a nosey child welfare woman
out of breath
bringing with her bound files
and a jiggle of fat under her chin Read more.
“Would that be enough,” “Ancestry.com,” and “In pursuit of her dream”
When she was a young girl she was beguiled by the trappings, the manners, the elocution of a mighty vocabulary. She would listen for the rich tones delivered by tongues that were born and raised in upper crust high rise apartments ruling over lake Michigan. Knew how to follow the money, how to modulate words, the subtleties between rough wool and smooth as silk cashmere Read more.