Soup
Soup. Once a salted, tugged open top Eaten cold In a classroom. Every day, the only option. Soup. Still need to breathe Steam for the...
Fences. Trees. Farmers.
"Fences. Everyone used to have fences." My dad reminds me of this often. He reminds me of it when we gaze at the corner post across...
I Knew I Had It In Me. . .
“I knew I had it in me But I still had to do it.” I’m not a thrill seeker, nor do I know anything more about snowboarding than that...
Valentine's Day: Excerpt from Strings in our Hands
“Valentine’s Day is my favorite holiday, especially in Guatemala,” I announced after showing up to work my shift at the library’s...
Dental Records: Another Re-envisioning of Growth Mindset
Stickers. Pencils. Oversized erasers. A basket full of tiny, plastic toys. Those were the items that punctuated each successful sit...
Steps
Steps, steps, steps, steps Mushy too muddy January steps New Year's steps Pulled down by Last year's weight. My legs could carry a...
O' Fearless
I want every blog I write to connect with my life in some way. At times the text is a kind of wonderment with literacy lilt. Other...
A Year for Romance
My heart reads blank, Veins dry of ink. My story dreamed, Is still a mystery. I'm ever worried about telling someone else's story wrong....
Tin Star
Snow is white. Snow is water. It should wash, not rust, the Christmas star. I let the dust stay. It’s only tin. Like the stars the...
