May− thunder was shaking the house
Read MoreManure scented grass girds the breeze slipping through
a slit of window, a mere two inches that I open
to breathe my first bit of fresh air since October last year.
I cannot tell you how many pie-sweet cherries covered the grass—blanket blood-spotted.
Read MoreWe’d roll onto our stomachs, laughing, bees zipping overhead and searching for something sweet.
Read MoreI was always invited to stay and eat with them, and unless I had plans, or wanted them to think I did, I mostly accepted.
Read MoreYesterday, the plumber came
and unearthed a pound of hair
The weirdest thing I’ve dreamed is that our son was born a catfish.
Read MoreTrevor was down by the crabgrass, the train hurtling away at forty miles an hour.
Read MoreThe snow was slushy, sticky, which Georgia liked because it slowed her down.
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