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The Breath of Spring
If home is where heart-aches hang their hats, what shovel can make the mat welcome? Only Chinook winds of forgiveness, mercy, repentance, wafting on Spirit wings, can melt Denial and soften...
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Puffed Up
It’s more than pride that puffs her up. Layers build buffers between soul and the cold; in the places where denial runs up against reality, stripping down is decidedly counter-intuitive. Fences may...
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The Closet
She smiles, a slow, careful smile that curdles on top like bad milk, a skin freezing in increments over troubled waters. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says to the accompaniment of the...
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Old Sins Cast Long Shadows
Old sins cast long shadows, aspersions of grey in filmy ink to ensnare generations and keep them in the dark; this little light of mine will only reach one small corner, but I will let it shine.Filed...
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Break Out
Panic throws up her force field and solidifies resistance to the truth; denial hardens her . tortoise-shell exterior. Her heart has been spared in this temporary cocoon, but greenhouse emissions ....
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Scanner
Experience turns her satellite outward, scanning, ever scanning for anomalies, places where her heart might be cut as on a rusty tin. Adrenalin on the cusp, cat-like in its coil, powers the intake of...
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Pandora’s Box
She was sure Yesterday was dead and gone. She had, after all, buried it deep in a wooden crate under the old apple tree (the one that split down the trunk during the storm of ’79). So when it raised...
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What She Saw
A daylily, ruffled and still with folds of fresh linen (freshly made bed) soaking up sunshine on laundry-day line. She paused there, caught helplessly on its anthers, struck by the glory that...
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Neverland’s Shore
Only in the Shadowlands, that vaguely recalled dream-world which disappears without trace upon awakening to the feel of flannelette stamped on skin, the lunches to pack, the chaos to realign - only...
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Disaster DIY
It’s not broken. Just needs a coat of paint and some appliance up-grades. Children raised here will not grow crooked backs or necks or morals or hearts. Give them extra birthday presents and they’ll...
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Disavowed
We admire her transience, her fragility – express wonder at the way her tears enhance her beauty – but shun our own.Filed under: A Wounded Heart, Beauty, Characterizations, Fragility, Identity,...
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Hide and Seek
I quit. I don’t like this game. I never win. I can’t find you anywhere, but somehow you always find me. Even when I hide you find a way to uncover me; if I bury myself in busyness or hole up on...
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In the Middle of the Mud
I spent years at the edge. I paraded with my picket sign to demonstrate my disdain for the dregs, lobbied for others to clean up their act, slung my share of dirt in the hopes that none of it would...
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