On summery Saturday mornings my mother strolls through sunshine picking the perfect plum with a scrutinizing eye, and long fingers that stroke the blackened skin as if the fruit were an ancient textile broken out of a museum’s glass display case. I believe it is an...
Do I terrify? You may kill me with your hatefulness. Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I think I know enough of hate. Some keep the Sabbath going to church; But I, with silent tread, I celebrate myself. [Sylvia Plath Maya Angelou Maya Angelou Robert Frost...
Covered in soil, hidden in the meadow. With my shovel and flowers seated in the shade of the Ginko. I wipe my hands down my torso. My shovel lies amongst the grass, Covered in soil, hidden in the meadow. This is life’s quid pro quo. What was taken I have returned...
Here I am about to jump, The water, flowing through my toes, down the waterfall, A gentle, chilly, touch As the water covers my feet Crashing over the rocks and down the lake. I jump. A suffocating gasp for air, Anxiety is poking my lungs. The splash in the deep blue...
Though the sun does shine Its warm rays upon my back And the larks and doves With chirping voices sing Still, I toil in the field A mellow, refreshing zephyr Threatens to carry me away On some flight of fancy Or lull me into a gentle sleep Still, I toil in the field...
You could see the lights from a mile away, a cyberspace landscape dusted with funnel cake sugar and cigarette ashes. I counted the colors: candy-coated pink and green for the slides, an acidic yellow for the lemonade stand, red and blue bled together to make purple as...
