I write poems. They appear online and in print journals like this stack here.
Some of my poems have been contest finalists. All of them, at some point have added to that deep line between my eyebrows. I guess I’m happy in person, but serious in print.
Here are a few poems you can read online:
I wrote “One Small Thing” while watching billows of smoke and flame from my backyard. I live in a canyon in California. Wildfire is one of our frequent seasons. The fine editors at Cider Press Review published “One Small Thing” and I’m grateful that the poem found a large audience.
“Grandmothers’ Lemon Bread” found a home at Split This Rock: Poems that Speak Out Against Violence and for Embrace. It was part of a printed and bound collection sent to the NRA and members of Congress who represent states most affected by gun violence. (You have to scroll down an inch or two until you see “Grandmother’s Lemon Bread” by Catherine Keefe.)
My poems have also been selected for anthologies like Forgotten Women: A Tribute in Poetry, (Grayson Press); Best of the 30/30 Project, (Tupelo Press); and Collateral Damage (Glass Lyre Press), a benefit anthology that will “highlight children caught in the crossfire of war and political strife, adult ambition and greed. It will also address the transformative power of love and care.”
I was selected to participate in the Association of Writers and Writing Programs mentor program where I had the privilege to work with Traci Brimhall. She’s a poet boss and if you don’t know her work, you’re welcome.
I earned my Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing and a Master of Arts in English Literature from Chapman University. When I graduated, the university gave me a plaque calling me the “Outstanding Dual Degree Student.” To learn more about poetry publishing, I moved to Port Townsend, Washington for a while and read poetry manuscripts for Copper Canyon Press, then went on to be a poetry editor for Narrative Magazine until I started my own journal, dirtcakes.
This is the title page of Cliff Season, my poetry book manuscript. It’s out looking for a good home. It has no curfew.