Writing on the Wall

I have seen the robin flutter and go still, resting, in the chest of the maple tree. I have seen the shape of a breeze, soft and fluid against my left ear, like a warm…

There are other trails, but it has become a Sunday ritual to return to the Sawmill Gulch. I’m now familiar with the bends of the trail, and I can sense how far we are along….

Homemade chocolate chip cookies on a saucer a glass of whole milk, untouched on a stool beside us I curl into him, no sound I tell him I’m afraid of how often love and marriage …

I scrubbed away dried toothpaste scum from the bowl of my sink. I wiped up the pink ring of bacteria from the silver drain. I dusted. I left two nail-long indents on my nose from…

Johnny has lazy eyelids. He looks like he’s still dreaming while he scoops and taps off scalloped potatoes onto the main course square on the lunch tray, handing it to next in line. I serve…

The tree outside my window tangles its branches into my balcony railing. The sprouting buds look like broccoli, and I see this tree each morning to face light coming through my only window, and I…