The Handing
March 28, 2018—for Beth Rich She was seventy-one, moving on. Her five-foot-two leukemia-lessened to eighty pounds, only her hands the same, large, fanned storehouse of comfort, her vitaligo, the brown pattern of taking on the sun […]
—for Beth Rich She was seventy-one, moving on. Her five-foot-two leukemia-lessened to eighty pounds, only her hands the same, large, fanned storehouse of comfort, her vitaligo, the brown pattern of taking on the sun […]
Dad doctors Rudy’s leg, torn and jagged just above the hoof enmeshed in barbed wire.
[…] October 8, 1908: A Train Pulled out of Green River, Wyoming, heading West toward Salt Lake City. The Mormon prophet, Joseph F. Smith, was going home from a visit to Boston, with his traveling […]
Absently, I opened the medicine cabinet in my folks’ house (searching for a comb), then stood stunned as you wafted out like a genie, so generous with cologne
[…] Gene would not have explained his proposals for change within the church in terms of an advancing world civilization. He would have explained them in terms of leading a Christ-like life. Every faithful Mormon […]
I didn’t go for vinegar but for the smell of life for organic tomatoes not mall tomatoes of feldspar or other inorganic stuff
My fingers, like God’s fingers, point to the dawn of salvation. I clasp this pomegranate, its seeds like worlds extending our isolated existence.
Out there in the yard winter drips silver and bombardiers through branches its excesses of yesterday. White.
The price is higher than he expects he smiles, wondering if it has something to do with the new black fishnets
In that first summer before a town was (Only tents and wagonbeds), they tossed Pails of water over the sun-scorched canvas.