I have been writing a good bit of poetry and fiction over the past 4 years that I’ve reserved for conventional publication.  I’ve finally reached a point where I feel the desire to share some of it with you who read my work and respond so graciously. These pieces do not directly address topics of faith and mental illness, but they are examples of how one person of faith who struggles with mental illness finds a measure of healing in the written word.

I wrote the core of this poem the day I received word that my ex-wife had accepted the terms of our divorce. It also happened to be my birthday.


I drive through my hometown;

Nothing is the same.


Heinz’s Grocery is gone;

Bud’s Bait Shop is boarded up;

The school has been torn down.


My lawyer calls;  

Everything is settled.


Joint custody,

Weekly visits,

Division of assets.


A storm brewed

On our wedding day.


We laughed carrying in

Presents one by one

In the rain.


There is now an apple orchard outside

My hometown


I buy a strawberry rhubarb pie and

Watch  the flies buzzing

Around the port-a-let.


Now and then,

It takes a shitload of strawberries

To sweeten the tartness of rhubarb.