Dec 9, 2020Member-onlyLunchA poem about macaroni. — Cooking1 min readPhoto by Karen Bailey on UnsplashLunchA poem about macaroni.----
Jun 8, 2020Member-onlyThe TripI stand by the car with my hand on the door. Streetlights and porch lights dot the neighborhood like little halos of indifference. Lazy, robotic mules on a rope, blinking in circles of white and yellow light. I look at the lights while the voices file into the car. First…Mental Health2 min read
Published in Literally Literary·Apr 28, 2020Member-onlyPale Blue BathroomA poem about middle ageMotherhood1 min read
Apr 27, 2020Member-onlySunny CaliforniaThere is the one friend who loses herself in the men she dates. And another friend who never dates. There is one in a round body with lumpy sides. An excessive appetitive and lots of wine. Loud, red, purple, and gross. One with black body hair and a bold face…Friendship2 min read
Feb 16, 2020Member-onlyFruit BirdThe birds come to my yard to eat. They come in Winter for red berries, pull invertebrates from the ground in Spring. In Autumn, they eat ripe seeds of grass. In Summer, they eat fruit: grapes, apples, pears, plums. I live in an old orchard. In my neighbor’s yard, a…Nature1 min read
Feb 11, 2020Member-onlyBurn PileAfter my mom and I clear brush from her property, we burn it in the bonfire. — A flyaway ember as small as a gnat aims for my jacket. It lands on my arm. I seal the wound with duct tape. After the fire diminishes in intensity and most of the brush has been consumed, we have less to do. My mother takes my daughter for a…Nature1 min read
Jan 25, 2020Member-onlyOwl Creek CampgroundI awoke, as I always did, laying on my back in the sand. It’s really more of a coming to than an awakening. Disappearing still makes me queasy. I wonder if this will go away. Sometimes I come to with a slight headache. I feel the dense sand of the…Motherhood2 min read
Jan 8, 2020Member-onlyMike’s Day OffA short story about a janitor. — Tonight, like every night, is cold. The men huddle around the fire in jackets and jeans. Tight wool caps hug their heads. Tall pines encircle them, as rigid and alert as totem poles, with bushy black branches that narrow into windows to reveal a thousand white stars. …Fiction10 min read