The Dark Horse of Sleep

The I fill my pockets with sugary apples begin the walk down dim roads that lead me to night’s pasture stars sing questions above grass-scented fields fireflies blink answers the dark horse of sleep grazes in the distance unmoved by … Continue reading

No Snow this Christmas

my father broke his ankle tobogganing in college flying down a snow-packed hill with my mother in front of him neglecting her job for one short bump dropping his foot as frost glazed her eyelashes no wonder my mother always … Continue reading

Regarding Itzhak Perlman, Sibelius’ Violin Concerto in D Minor Opus 47 & Ironing

alright, let me try to explain about ironing cotton sheets they start out crumpled like a wad of paper mistakes so some of us women set up an ironing board and begin a task we would not allow you to … Continue reading