Prose & Poetry

Depression doesn’t sneak up like it used to when I would shuffle through the house and

Gold learns earlyhow to survive pressure.So do women. My grandmother knew thiswhen the crops failedand the

Our fortress is comfy,stewards of fragileadvantage (never lost!)We’ve taken cover like antson a pin oak in

I wanted to write a poem where I’m the heroine – maybe Joan of Arc or

Lately, even on my worst days, (when I’m more dumb with shame than usual) the days

Decency is simple, not showy— just being a good human. I pick up my pen, tracing

and sowe crashed and burned,salt-slick flames licking the hullas the sky turned awayand the sea pulled