ONE MILLION NEW CASES in December, as of Dec 5, 2020. One million in five days. I went outside and looked up. The sky was full of shooting stars.

Last weekend,
Some restless ghosts
followed me home from Antietam
Rode the highways on my Kia bumper.
Crowded into my house
Hung out on couch and floors
And kitchen counters
Commented on my cooking.

Extra cookies over here, please.
Gruel. This oatmeal tastes like gruel.
Ah. Sugar. Cover it all with sugar.
I remember the taste of sugar,
Stirred into my chicory
One sip and life is spreading through my body.
Ah, sugar.
What I miss most, is sugar.

Their buddies from Harper’s Ferry
Wandered in, unannounced.
We heard about the cookies, they said.
We heard about sugar.

We need each other, walking through this smoking field.

The sun came out today.

I woke in smoking battlefields

Strewn with blood and broken lives

Covered in crosses and littered with discarded masks.

Scuffed-up yard signs. Graffiti.

Blackened skeletons of burned out cars and buildings.

In the last four years, the creeks ran dry.

No water to put out burning towns or forests,

Or save the salmon, gasping on the toxic banks.

The sun came out today.

I still hear the children, calling for their mothers

Tapping on the glass in nursing homes

And all the other horrors. …

I NEVER THOUGHT I’D BE IN THE “BACK IN THE DAY” SECTION.

So. It’s come to this.

Earlier this week (Oct 21, 2020), the Honolulu Star-Advertiser published this photo of me campaigning in 1972. I never dreamed I’d be in a “Back In The Day” nostalgia photo.

Yes. That was the campaign jeep that I drove. Yes. That was my hairstyle. Yes. I was an elected member of the Hawaii State House of Representatives representing Kailua, Lanikai, Maunawili, Olomana, and Waimanalo. In 1968, at age 20, I was elected to the State Constitutional Convention, also from Kailua and Waimanalo.

I was put on the Hawaiian Homes Committee. It was what I learned there that made me so angry, so outraged, that I decided to run for Congress to do something about it. (The solution was federal, not state). …

Die for a bowl of Autumn Squash Soup? I don’t think so.

With this long and grim Covid winter ahead of us, we can’t let down our guard.

Today, I got to thinking about a favorite autumn squash soup: “It’ll be okay. Just a quick into the restaurant, grab a bowl of soup, and out!”

But the Voice of Reason perched on my shoulder said “Wait a minute. It’s probably low risk. But what if it isn’t? You’re 73. Your life for a bowl of soup? Are you frickin’ kidding me?”

Stupid thing to die from, right? Obit: “She went in to get a bowl of squash soup, and that’s all she wrote.” …

To The Women Who Still Support Trump

Look in the mirror. Repeat the words of Leonard Cohen (Anthem):

“I can’t run no more
With that lawless crowd
While the killers in high places
Say their prayers out loud
But they’ve summoned, they’ve summoned up
A thundercloud
And they’re going to hear from me.”

Then do the right thing. Let them hear from you.