to the absence of your own voice filling your inner silence …

It says right there in Amos chapter eight: “The time is surely coming,” syas the Lord …

My mind stops, one foot in the air …

I pass the big nursery on the way to see my father for the first time in a year …

Gashes in the green. Stumps and roots serve in …

Each day you wak to the same gray sky, snow covering the gass like scarves the women wear …

After Fred broke up with me,I returned to graduate schooland immersed myself in six classes,an overload, trying to heal. One sunny autumn day,I sat alone

the large jar lays beside the well of the city’s forefather …