‘Oh, I’m at home in these woods,’ she sang, twirling through the last leaf greens, the new yellows, the old … More
Tag: creative
The Phones
The smell of gunpowder makes its way into my nose. God. You’d think a cop wouldn’t mind the smell. Might … More
The Day Moon Before Allhallowtide
The early morning stirs its way into the dawn’s dark sky. And the evening moon, which became the night moon, … More
The Farmer, the Skeleton
The window over the sink, the one with a late-day sun coloring the kitchen. Through it, the farmer watched the … More
Face to Carve
A colossal pumpkin in my arms, I stumbled into the house. Kicking toy cars, small, discarded shoes out of my path. … More
Mom at the Apple Tree
Pooka sits on my chest as if she were a mother hen. I think she thinks, My girl is warm. … More
Old Mouse, Sing
Old Mouse stands atop a sand dune. The desert burns without flame. So dry, so so dry. Old Mouse tries … More