Inheritances
My brother tells me he wants to save me from the shock of finding out what’s in Ma’s will.
Do you want me to read you what she said?
His phone voice...
Nighttime on the cusp of madness
Nighttime ghosts cackle,eyes shut, painful gut,in a rut of another sleepless hour,no power to shutoff thoughts, delaysolutions, resolutions, absolutions,passing...
Time is a surgeon
I am a spoke.Turning clockwise, notat all the wiser.Choices dig their roots intosoil without my consent but Iwater them anyway.A mossy...
Hobbs Square, 1955, Worcester, MAAfter a photograph of Cecile Aaronson by a Telegram and Gazette photographer
The woman stands at the open windowon the day...
The Sign
—to Seamus Heaney
It might’ve been a joke, but spoke to melike a blackbird’s cry, giddyand defiant, not knowing this placebut feeling in place,...
