Andante
April 14, 2018After your letter, I hoped to translate, if I could, apples and bread into dark open streets. That girl in Heidelberg drew a black line, white paper against the shed door,
After your letter, I hoped to translate, if I could, apples and bread into dark open streets. That girl in Heidelberg drew a black line, white paper against the shed door,
Always she is there on that far island in my mind, where it is always night, and the moon tears into a world of leaves, and is torn. A child, she steps
Cornmeal, dusted over these loaves like pollen. And I wish again for the old unwritten recipes: brown breads, chicken baked in a wrap of cornmeal, family reunion picnics I can’t match with my own.
[…] Clawson watched as an anti-Mormon mob in Georgia killed his companion. Through bluff and bravado Clawson survived the assault and brought his companion’s body back to church and family in Utah. The murdered Joseph […]
I took my violin and my music from the back of the car and listened to my heels tap on the asphalt as I walked across the parking lot. It was an icy December […]
Grandma teased us for the time it took to kill one jackrabbit on our backyard picnic table.
We leave the town at noon For a beach of white pebbles And small, clean bones. The wind Whips our sensible skirts, and sun glints
[…] heart break. He had circled outside my perimeter, did not intrude, but hovered undetected. I rejected. To the end of his days I was no partaker of his feast. I had no taste. He […]
While a hummingbird scans it for wires the red rosebud explodes in slow motion, the two velocities firing simultaneously. Riddled with inconsistencies, the rose is
Already cold and stiff by the time I arrived, It was a shallow shadow, gray against black; A collar of blood fringed its matted coat.