annie lee > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

journey from point A (womb) to point B (tasteful little urn on the mantle)

our gasp in the time-space continuum

hiway 101, Camino Real, the road of my choildhood, between San Diego and Monterey: my yellow brick road

let the world hear your voice, know your dreams, see your joy

a group of poems describing three seasons as they pass in Monterey County and a winter in Kansas

question about god or God

the measure of our days

When I was a young girl, my family crossed the Pacific on a Navy ship. This is how I remember it.

In an asylum, solitary confinement or simply locked in one's room, humans have needs.