Washing Mother
March 21, 2018I return for the washing. Can’t resist your need, Or else I want to atone For leaving so eagerly Without glancing back, Back when you were whole and lively And wanting to hold me tight.
I return for the washing. Can’t resist your need, Or else I want to atone For leaving so eagerly Without glancing back, Back when you were whole and lively And wanting to hold me tight.
[…] in the sink, and you stayed hungry until my shaving was done. But not today. Today I’ll walk you, naked as Adam, through the jaws of the woods breaking our fast on lost fruit trees.
Her body was cold, nearly frigid in the room set aside for such matters.
When dawn comes this early, a slice of sky visible from my bed textures waking. Today’s thin layers clabber white . . .
A day of long-walked silences, waterless red gullies and hard-rock plateaus. We’ve met few on the trails this summer past my father’s dying.
For them, there was no between they believed the tale and trekked to testify and walked and walked
The old man shimminates and coughs along the shoulder of the road and veers like the wobble in the wheel that brought his Airstream to a stop.
Patrick Mason, newly-appointed Hunter Chair of Mormon Studies at Claremont Graduate University, will address the Miller-Eccles study group on September 16th and 17th.
John the Beloved considers the Rapture Word buckler, chary tribe, inured lamb,
The ponderous round oak table calls our family of ten to their places, the crowns of our heads like small planets stilled in orbit, mealtime settings like jewels in an expansive medallion.