DiaBLOGue

Excerpts from Before Us Like a Land of Dreams

From “Homing”  In which our protagonist, a crabby aging mother and professor, drives from Salt Lake City to her father’s birthplace—Safford, Arizona—to visit an infant’s gravesite. Year: 2016.  Grandma Anderson said one of the best…

The Color of Longing

After a painting by Emily Fox King  

This blood, this longing was meant for  
your particular darkness. That shadow, 
the red droplet on the floor, a new wound:  
These are mine to name. And in my name 
you are known, no less worthy than your 
brother. No less chosen for this canvas of 
violence and change.

Backwards Pioneers

My earliest memory takes place in 1960s Wilkinsburg, where we lived while Dad finished his schooling at Carnegie Tech. Dark brick house and heavy gray sky. Warm, prickly air; a carpet of clover in the grass. A thick cement porch I loved, anchored with square pillars of the same black brick. Chipped concrete steps with graveled wounds and patches.

Devotion

Every Tuesday morning, sky dark, 
I rise to the temple. Today, by the 
time we reach the Garden, the 
actors need help with their lines. 

Prodigal Daughter

The lost daughter woke up 
and returned to herself, 
and determined she no 
longer wanted to be lost, 
and determined to 
return to her Mother. 

What Ashmae Taught Me

One time, in the temple, 
after looking, and smelling, 
and asking, and listening, 
a quietness spoke back 

Circles and Lines

A ring of women 
Spontaneously gathered round 
Willing hands outstretched 
Gently pulling, untwisting, unbraiding