
…We’ll float,
you said. Afterward
we’ll float between two worlds—
five bronze beetles
stacked like spoons in one
peony blossom, drugged by lust:
if I came back as a bird
I’d remember that—
until everyone we love
is safe is what you said.
…We’ll float,
you said. Afterward
we’ll float between two worlds—
five bronze beetles
stacked like spoons in one
peony blossom, drugged by lust:
if I came back as a bird
I’d remember that—
until everyone we love
is safe is what you said.
Even in my postpartum-addled state, I recognize I’m singing my baby daughter a love song. . . . Yet the words have never seemed more true.
It was the night before Xmas, and somewhere around here
I sat alone with a drink, you know, holiday cheer.
While most people think about food this time of year, I contemplate the end of the world.
The winter holidays are on their way. Since leaving my hometown in Texas thirty years ago, I have spent almost every Thanksgiving and Christmas since driving or flying hundreds of miles to […]
I’ve been reorganizing my poetry bookshelves, as one does during a pandemic, slowly sorting through books I’ve collected over the past thirty years. Most I sort by last name, slotting Barbara Ras […]
I’m proud and happy to announce my flash nonfiction essay, “His Apple Pie,” about a border collie and a bad guy, appeared today in Brevity: A Journal of Concise Literary Nonfiction. For […]
I’m having a creative crisis along with the stress of the global pandemic outside my door and the uncertainty of life when we emerge. I’m trying to take the ‘extra’ time I […]
The author of the essay “Whatever Happened to ________?” published anonymously, because she had to. Stalked by an ex-husband who freaked out due to her greater success as a writer, she has […]
I’ve recently been the recipient of a handful of chain email plans, all with one idea: share quotes from poems that have been meaningful, inspiring, or comforting to you. The details of […]