I sat up all night waiting for
somewhere between one
billion to ten billion years.

a red supergiant with your
tightly bound, iron nuclei,
dense stellar winds,
contracting core.

I sat up all night waiting for
somewhere between one
billion to ten billion years.

and your increased surface
temperature smoldering
within me, your fused elements
consuming my energy.

I sat up all night waiting for
somewhere between one
billion to ten billion years.

and your shockwave, instead, you
collapsed from within exploding into a
supernova flashing bright then
fading into blackness.

I sat up all night waiting for
somewhere between one
billion to ten billion years.

and your magnetic field a
dynamo, yet, your stellar flares
dimmed, your rotation slowed, your
luminosity fluxed, and I slept.

© Pamela A. Rossow


thankless moments as crystal

dew drops slip one by one

down green veined leaves

falling cascading while

past like black loam

clouds these pools of present

tumultuous deluges pummel

tiny rivulets turning them into

brooks that swell rush the

future hurry time billowing

currents unaware of piffling

trickles the forgotten source

Pamela A. Rossow

Palmolive Days

Palmolive days spent
reminiscing amidst
sudsy yellow bubbles
lemony scent wafting
childhood into adulthood as
sunshine tiles gleam under
bare feet the view from my
Nonnie’s white porcelain sink
blue green some days a misty
gray always beautiful salty
grainy life a tea cup
awaiting the faucet a saucer
sunken anticipating the
sponge immersed in citrus to
cleanse away  grime

Pamela A. Rossow

Watch for Flying Pucks!!!

Okay, wait for it–I freaking love ice hockey! My son got hooked and, subsequently, I did! Probably has something to do with living in SoFlo and loving the fact I can escape the heat for a while and pretend I’m a little farther north every time I go to a game.  Then there’s the lightening speed, agility and wooden sticks slapping small hard pucks that make it beyond exciting. Oh yeah–the checking!

The only downside to the game I have discovered is the whiff of the locker rooms as I head to the appropriate rink. Nothing I can’t deal with (as long as I don’t have to enter). Oh and the stinky gear (most of which can’t be washed and must air dry). While I played soccer when I was young and loved it,  I’m officially a hockey mom (you can’t tell me we don’t rock the look in our hoodies).  Ha-ha.

Whether it’s my son’s high school team (undefeated so far and J scored his first goal tonight), college or NHL, I’m going to be one of those loud (only slightly obnoxious) fans who cheers with enthusiasm! Long live hockey!

Dear Santa

To the big guy in the red and white suit, you kinda scare me.  Everyone says you’re a nice old man with a real, white beard and twinkly eyes but mommy and daddy say I shouldn’t talk to strangers. Or sit on their laps.  Or let them hug me and whisper in my ear. Do you like to sit in the mall all day?  Don’t you miss Mrs. Claus?  But I like the toys you bring.  And I made you a list and mommy mailed it to you.  How does it get to the North Pole?  Do you really have little elves?  Do they really make my Decepticon Transformer in China?  How do you get in my house again?  Could you leave the presents on the porch instead?  Please don’t come in my bedroom and leave a gift under my little tree.  The porch is where your cookies and milk is.  And a carrot for your Rudolph.  Flying reindeer sound neat but I don’t want to go in your sleigh.  Just don’t land on the roof.  If you do, I might wake up if I hear a scary sound and then mommy and daddy will be super mad if I sneak in their bedroom and climb into their bed and wake them up and hide under the covers.  Just fly them down onto the ground.  And leave the presents on the porch, member?  Thanks, Santa.  Stay away from the green stuff daddy hung up.  Mommy and daddy kiss under there and it’s gross.  Oh, the list! I’m good, right?  At least pretty good?  I didn’t really grab Yoda out of my sister’s hand when she took him and I was playing with him first.  I just sorta took it.  It really wasn’t my fault that she isn’t good at Trouble and she started crying and I told her it’s because I’m the bestest Trouble game player in the world.  I said I was sorry when she tattle taled to mommy.  I promise I’ll go right to sleep.  Even if I fall asleep on the sofa in the living room I’m still really sleeping, kay?  I won’t be able to see you on the porch.  The sliding door is dark at night.  The Christmas lights don’t make it bright enough.  So just go ahead and put the presents there, kay?  Mom says I have to set the table with silverware and stuff.  She says you’re watching.  That’s kinda creepy but just remember my list, kay?  Good night Santa.  I hope you have a nice trip to Florida after Christmas.



Monsanto Disgustanto

Monsanto(Sigh.) Isn’t it enough this corporation is responsible for the mass production of nasty chemicals through their Round-Up products?  Isn’t it nice knowing that Monsanto assisted in manufacturing Agent_Orange?  Don’t you sleep easier at night because you are now aware that Monsanto has a monopoly on genetically modified crops here in the States?  And don’t you feel better, when shopping at your local grocery store with its unmarked produce, that you can more readily consume large quantities of pesticide ridden, gene meddled with produce?  I know the economy’s been rough.  I’m right there beside you buying the icky potatoes and toxic tomatoes (when they are cheaper than the organic fruits and veggies). I don’t have to like it though.  So, Monsanto, when my food budget improves, I will no longer have to stand there glaring at your gene altered corn and soybeans.  I will pass by your products for their organic counterparts and happily place Genetically_modified_organism free corn in my grocery cart.  Btw, not only are you doing your consumers a disservice, you are not helping farmers who want the freedom to plant biodiverse crops, and you should be placed behind bars for your seed hording (the farmers facing time because they chose to save seeds from their own, non-Monsanto crops should be freed). You just flat-out disgust me.  Forget about your treatment of farmers in countries such as India.  You’re despicable.  It’s only a matter of time before your evil deeds (I mean seeds) are revealed.  So, in the meantime, live it up (I guess). Your days in the States (and elsewhere) are numbered.  While some people may think Americans are stupid, I disagree.  We’ll catch on.  When we do, your company will be obsolete.

Farmer suicides

Seed Monopolies

The Lions Suck

For the last so many years, it has been my Thanksgiving tradition to watch the Detroit Lions LOSE. Today was no different. Although they played better than they have in years, their best was still not good enough. Boohoo. Just kidding. I was reveling!

So Thanksgiving is mainly about family, great food, and football. Of course, years ago (15 or so) I resented the game that occurred on the day we were supposed to break bread and give thanks. I’ve acclimated and happily watch snippets of the match up in between turkey prep, basting, cooking, and baking. Then I rejoice when  the scoreboard glares at the Lion’s coach.

Am I a little jaded? Yup. Will I ALWAYS root for the Lion’s opposing team? Absolutely! Detroit just doesn’t do it for me!


Not supposed to be on the computer much so I will be brief (or at least try to).  According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, the term thanksgiving means:

1.       the act of giving thanks

2.       a prayer expressing gratitude

3.       a public acknowledgment or celebration of divine goodness

Tomorrow, I will be engaging in numbers 1, 2, and 3.  I hope you’ll join me.  Despite life’s sometimes uncontrollable circumstances, we can all choose to be thankful for something or someone (or many things and many people). I am incredibly grateful for my family and friends who have been present when life has handed me cannolis (my favorite dessert) or when it’s dished out the Warheads.  I also have a wonderful home, clean water, food, and a body pillow.  Not going to lie, I am looking forward to mom’s Italian stuffing, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie (a large can of Ready Whip awaits). But the people I am sharing the meal with make the holiday.   I hope you’ll join me in bringing to mind what or who you are thankful for.  While I know, for some of you, Thanksgiving will be difficult and/or sad, remember that someone is thankful for YOU!  Blessings. . .