My father, tangled in the height of adolescence,
wept outside Old Saint Paul’s Church as spring died,
reading Desiderata. The poem lay inscribed
in rock at the...
True Story Metaphor for My Parents' Divorce
In this shrinking house, I am still growing,
my wrist gripped between window and sill,
one toe pinched in neat...
When I went to pick my daughter up at pre-school,
the kids were on the playground. Her teachers
eyed me uncomfortably and glanced across
the slide at...
Love Letters
We who are wedded to timelounge on the beach. Gullssweep along the sandcarrying a message of depths.They have salted their pathsin the brine...
