I do like a microphone!

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Hello, Denver!!!

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Elegy for Enid Prince


Elegy for Enid Prince


Enid is sunlight splashing

through the open kitchen window,

the scent of lemon blossoms

on the breath of her two-year old

giggle.  She is a tower of strength,

a castle without a moat,

a daughter, sister, cousin, niece,

friend, mother, wise woman.


Her spirit rushes

through plunging waterfalls,

cleansing the dross of earth.

She is a mountain

where eagles fly above.

Gone now to a place

of love,

leaving a place

where she was loved.


Her spirit rises

like a dragonfly

above the lake,

leaving us all

with a tsunami

in our hearts.

Wings of gold

surround her.

We are left

with the memory

of a rainbow, colors

that will never fade

from our minds.

Love crosses all barriers,

remains constant.

C.J. Prince



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Chasing the Sun, Finding the Moon


PHOTO CREDIT:  Flannon Jackson

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After Kay Ryan


Say when a blizzard

cannot make

your nostril hairs

more frozen

or it is always

67.4 miles

to town

no matter

the season

whether you

lean forward

over the steering

wheel or try

to relax,

the distance is

always the distance.

The road might

be closed

but you

drive around


the way you

live life.

Even if the donkey

nudges open

the gate and the sheep

follow, even

then at midnight,

you escort them

back to the barn

when you shake

a tin of corn

like a ceremonial rattle.

It is not magic.

Just species

communication.  You

break ice

on the stock

tank.  No

new lambs.  Life

waits until dawn.

If you’re lucky.

Luck is incidental.

You cannot

divine nature’s whims.

C.J. Prince


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Where Earthworms Wait


I could no longer read in those days of the impossible

as the disease leaked through his body like a sieve. The

journeys south to Seattle, the trips north across the border

to British Columbia for some non-FDA approved harsh

treatment.  I drove through rain and sunbreaks, sat in

crowded waiting rooms,  knitting or picking cat hair off my

clothing.  There is no hope but he pretended.  Today I plant

forget-me-nots on his grave.  This endless earth cycle

where earthworms wait.


Spring equinox holds

a cupful of daffodil sunshine.

I plant forget-me-nots

on his grave.

All roads lead deep

beneath soil and grass

where earthworms wait.

C.J. Prince



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Oh, Gosh, your TV is hacked

Such a hubbub today.  Shock and outrage over an old story, perhaps dismissed by purveyors of fake news.  Shift the focus.  Wag the dog.

Glenn Greenwald told the whole story some time ago after intense, cautious and responsible journalism.

I will not take time to rant.  Just get a grip.  Television is rarely a place to seek truth.  The core values of journalism are mucked about and we must be responsible to find the bigger picture.  Go back a few years and read this book.

Take a deep breath, and question everything.

Happy International Women’s Day

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