Sarah Webb's poetry collections, Red Riding Hood’s Sister (Virtual Artists Collective, 2018) and Black (Virtual Artists Collective, 2013) can be purchased for $15 each from

or buy a signed copy at a reading.

Error leads to error in Red Riding Hood’s Sister, as a girl in love finds her marriage has turned violent. The poems in this collection mix fairy tale and dream with the everyday to tell the story of a girl not so different from anyone else who finds herself in a desperate situation. Sarah Webb's 2018 memoir, Red Riding Hood’s Sister looks into abusive marriage. What traps us? What can set us free?
The poems in Black come in large or small ways from the peoples of all the major religions and shamanism. Poems call on the traditions of every continent as well as from ancients living before times in memory. I made up modern myths too and told stories from science and everyday life.

My aim in all of it was to find the root beneath the hints and stories. What is it that we all share, that we sense beneath the surface?


I am creating a Reading Schedule for Red Riding Hood's Sister.  Here's the calendar so far.


March 11   4 PM    Launch  Bookwoman, Austin, TX

April 4       7 PM    Reading and Open Mic  Gina Zhidov's Photography Studio 327 N. 6th St.,                                                
                               Chickasha, OK

April 6      2 PM    Reading   Scissortail Writing Festival  East Central University, Ada, OK

Oct 5          7 PM  Featured Reader Dallas Poetry Community, Half-Circle Books by NW        
                             Highway, Dallas, Tx

Oct 28        2 PM.  IAO Featured Reader, Full Circle Bookstore, Oklahoma City, OK


Dec 9         2 PM  The Depot, Norman, OK

Feb            TBA   Women and Gender Panel.  People's Poetry Festival, Corpus Christi, TX        

Murphy, World Traveler

7-28-2014.  from 55mph-traveler (my travel writing blog)

Rex got a walk up to Main Street, where we strolled the shops (tattoo parlor, vintage store, CPA, architect, new marijuana outlet). When we got back Murphy wanted out, to goggle at a passerby and sniff her way along a neighbor's fence. Rex and I came too, as military support. There are supposed to be fierce cats in this neighborhood, and I know one for sure, an orange beast who terrorized my terrier Missy several years ago. 

On this trip, a black and white cat disappeared into an alley, then an orange one—younger, I think, than the old bandit who caused Missy problems. The orange cat advanced down the alley at Murphy, who seemed unconcerned, sniffing at the wine bottles in a neighbor's recycling bin. I took a step toward him and he disappeared, but he circled round to come up the driveway. There is a little cut-through to the trash can there, and, sure enough, when I looked down it, he was creeping up on us. When I appeared, he fled. Murphy seemed unaware of these interactions, but I doubt she was so nonchalant. I imagine her whirling, claws out, if the tabby had gotten near. 

Rex is usually patient with this sheepdog role—it's extra time out of doors, after all—but today he kept pulling hard toward every smell. I was taking notes in my journal, and it was hard to balance pen and paper.

The neighbor who walked his cat down the sidewalk a few days ago came out and put something in a car. A voice in conversation was audible from his porch, and I saw an older man with a cup there. Murphy investigated behind a fir bush, peeing I think. As she came out, she shook herself, freeing herself from spider web. We made our slow way back to the steps, Murphy stalking on hard, lion steps. 

When Rex hurried in, she sat to consider. I opened the door wide enough that she could see that was no trap from her rival. She and Rex have been skirmishing at his food bowl, and she has taken up residence on top of the plastic storage box that holds their treats.

A few minutes later as I cleaned the cat box, she went to the door again. She must be beginning to feel comfortable outside the house. We went out. I hosed down the cat box as she wandered. No Rex this time. 

                           With my slowness
                           I stop the world.
                           I choose the time--
                           you can wait.

                                         --Murphy the Cat      World
I have two blogs.  Sarah Webb, Poet and 55mp--traveler from my summer trips.  I am going to move some posts over from the travel writing blog and eventually merge the two.  For now, visit.

I just read the most delightful book, poetry about teaching and literature (that doesn't sound as funny and touching as it is but students and writers are people too and writing can go deep). It's One Blackbird at a Time, by Wendy Barker.  

My copy came to me used and I think I bought it somewhere, but if you loaned it to me, tell me quick because I want to pass it on to a friend. (And, yes, I'll buy some new copies because I have some friends that will love it).  

Hard to pick a favorite bit but it might be the moment when she is having a root canal and her dentist recites the Prologue to the Canterbury Tales to her.

Click to see  a video of "Turning to the Ordinary" and "A Basin of Water" from PILGRIMAGE, where they were published before coming out in RED RIDING HOOD'S SISTER.

Cover, adapted from a drawing from years back

The drawing on the cover is one I did a few years back, adapted first by my tinkering on the computer and then by Reginna Schroeder to make a cover of it.  Reginna did a fabulous job on layout and typography--beautiful books.