the opening.

There is an opening. I can see it with my bare eyes, and yet, despite my swollen, blistered feet, I have come...

Bristled

The razors are conspiring again. Planning their death at His hands. One suggests nicking His cheek, its legacy a single scarlet bead...

Gone for Good

I was convinced she would have come back,             (even though she had tucked our spaniel pup

Their Echoes

Everyday there’s someone new who doesn’t know.  Everyday there’s someone new who needs to be told old news.

Another day you happen to live

I'm one of those days you can't quite remember, when your body gets out of bed because that's what it does everyday,...

The Attic Head

The ceramics teacher wanted to make mothers of us, ‘Make yourself in your image,’ and we all got to work, squeezing these wet slabs, pressing, thumbing, stretching...