Beneath The Skin
back down the road re-trodden meeting that phantom thinly transparent stripped of substance bone with sinews
I See My Mother’s Hands
How lovely, to look at my 8-year-old daughter’s hands, at her long, slender fingers and half-painted
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In Honor of Eli
The overcast skies teased me and I wondered when it would finally rain. Even with the
Teach Me About Brazil
Teach me vowels as airy and lengthy as flute concertos, I asked my Brazilian Portuguese teacher.
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The Duality of it all
There’s nothing wrong with being a delicate flower. To be beautiful and fragile. Like an Orchid,
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Elephants Interrupted
“It was a space ship,” yells Alexander. “Troy and I climbed in and met the
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