1. The summer has gone native here. Our autumn generally subtle, our orchards extinct, few worry, except at night when the houses won’t let go of the heat. 2. It is a winter scene— a bridge made new by snowfall. I am bound by the black and white of it and envy the photographer his … Continue reading
Category Archives: Uncategorized
Day 30 of 35
Tattoo Before he breaks the skin, he asks if this is my first. Much of my body exposed, I wonder how he doesn’t know the answer; how he could suspect that I have secreted another? We choose a sentimental space between spine and shoulder-blade, above my heart and hidden from the casual observer. When he … Continue reading
Day 29 of 35
Catarina squawked as the door opened. Amber felt the warmth of the small room reach out as she walked up the steps. Josie moved aside to let her in, and immediately she was wrapped in the nearly-uncomfortable heat generated by the fire. “She doesn’t like the cold,” Josie said. “Being tropical and all.” Amber knew … Continue reading
Musings / poetry / Uncategorized / Writing
Day 28 of 35
He twisted paper into rose, a parlor trick I had seen before Continue reading
Day 27 of 35
The moon swells in the last days of our heat wave. I have spent the summer filling this room with fans,and each night I have turned them on and slept beneath their electric whir, protected from morning birdsong and its infinite memory of your arm half-circled around my waist. What will I do when the … Continue reading
Day 26 of 35
The fire truck passed, and I watched as the cars resumed their forward momentum in waves, as if the siren had paused time and then hit play again. Continue reading
Day 25 of 35
The crows amass before dawn. I consider shooing them like an old woman in an Italian movie, with a broom and guttural noises that don’t require subtitles, but their caws seem cooperative. One delegates; The others request clarification. I stay in bed. I await my orders. Continue reading
Day 24 of 35
If the pews had been more accommodating, the weather cooler, my clothes more suitable for a room full of Sunday bodies, I would have married him. Continue reading
Day 23 of 35
A poppy for him. A beetle for her. A story for me. Continue reading
Day 22 of 35
I have been defending myself for days. I’m going to get some sleep now. Continue reading
Untempered Glass 