an ode to an hour alone do you remember when you broke because you didn’t want your mom to know you were crying? you waited until she left the house with your sister, to go to a volleyball game. you... Continue Reading →
Water Damage We sit on the driftwood and write our names in charcoal. You tell me about chemicals and oil spills and how you cried at dinner. I don’t know how to tell you I cry too. I want to... Continue Reading →
Passover Now spring—a still cold reminder that life, even untended, persists. The house has suffered my distress, it is less than before, tired, a bit unkempt, lacking sparkle. I should make amends. Start here, this room, these objects burdened by... Continue Reading →
Out of the Fog This morning came galloping with a hot vengeance after I had only three hours of sleep. Oh, to roll time back, make the hours a black umbrella. Even the gas pump is impatient. When I lift... Continue Reading →
A February Stroll We pretend the warmth sewed into this temperate February day will stretch like a jersey sheet over the remaining wedge of the month. Mornings taut with unforeseen heat, afternoons lazing on record highs, evenings lolling on balmy... Continue Reading →
My Little Town In my little town dogs sleep on the street and act affronted when you drive on the bed. My little town allocates resources in proportion to priorities. We have one school two churches and three bars. The... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 