Why imperfect cakes are still delicious.
In the bottom of a small-town inn, Between the heaving sides of cattle beasts, The stench of moldy straw, wet wool, And pungent waste ladens the muggy air. The babble of babies, The snores of strangers, The hissing argument of friends falling out Cannot… Continue Reading “Holy Light”
Dear elder little brother, Last week you turned eight–an authentic hollow leg, growing like a bean plant on a pole, big front teeth, want to help Dad kind of eight. As I watched you puff out those candles with two gusty blows and choose… Continue Reading “8”
I remember as a little girl, Wandering to the vacant lot in town, Stopping to pick the prettiest wildflowers, Then running them home to my mom, I don’t remember what she said, But she kept them ’til they died, So, I know she must… Continue Reading “Flowers for Mom”