Grandmother My grandma's hands are gnarled maps. Routes rivers stars terrains oceans and galaxies rest in her palm. Ridges and grooves have taken different roads, read different stories than mine. The gold studs at her ears have dimmed with age... Continue Reading →
Our Nature Run from the rain with me not the kind that mists- cooling kisses or even reluctant drops but the kind that slams and stings awakening our bodies to wetness seeking shelter in tangling limbs under a mothering Mulberry... Continue Reading →
The Woman Who Fed the Doves Short and compactly Sicilian she was the pastor's mother––a priest–– her only child; a son. She started her car every morning, put it in gear, gunned it in a semi-circle from curb to curb... Continue Reading →
Rays Fans Every April we fall in love with twenty-five men knowing they will break our hearts. We whisper their true names in late night stat sessions. Carry talismans embossed with team symbols. Each win fine wine. Only we fans,... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 