Today you would have been 85. And somehow though the years are moving forward without you, you still are here. Your name is mentioned at least once a day. A story remembered. A song turned up a little louder.I see her in the profile of my mother, I hear her in the voice of my… Continue reading I love you more.
She took me next door. There was a hose on the roof, and an unlocked door and the leftover wallpaper peeling. The grass was unkempt and the gate didn’t lock properly. Beyond, lay the Allegheny, moving fast towards the right of our eyeline-the docks pressed in towards one another in the same way you line… Continue reading Abandoned
Ron, I read this out loud to my students on Tuesday. You would have hated me doing that. I told them who you were, why you are so important to me, where we met and how. I said you were kind. And funny, and irritating. I said you loved Paris, and a great hot cocoa, and to laugh.I told them… Continue reading How love letters work to those who aren’t here
When Joyce flew away, she went up and out. No whimper, no whisper, no crying, no shout.So quick it did happened, she left no time for goodbyes,This was her way, why were we surprised?Our only remembrance was to hiccup and stare ,at the mountain of letters and the old brown reclining chair.When Joyce flew away,… Continue reading Waving
I must make home within my own heart, my broken, busted, earthquaked heart full to the brim with memories and hope and earth with the possibility of something new to grow. You have to clear the field before you plant. The death of all the past year, of who I was, has to happen as… Continue reading Homeward Bound
Samhain approaches, the veil thins. The moon beckons me closer to her while the harvest begins to yield bounty. Wheat and corn husks rippling in the breeze, apples and pumpkins; as bright as any Christmas ornament catch my eye as I pass their fields. I love the look of hay bales, mums and gourds. I… Continue reading Blessed be!
(For every girl who choses herself over the prince and consequently becomes the evil witch in his re-telling of the fairytale.) I had all the makings of a cinderella. My hair in the light was as luster-ridden as any. My eye sparkled up at him for years. But my heart never felt right in the… Continue reading A Fairytale
She stands on the balcony silhouetted in the light. But first she had to crack the stone to get through. First she had to lose it all. That looks different each time around. And we may not realize it all the time but we lose often. Sometimes the loses are small: a bobby pin, a… Continue reading What light through yonder window breaks?