Forgiveness. There is no poem for it. It is a strong and beautiful goodbye. Self. There is no book for it. It is a lifetime of goodbyes. Destiny. There is no plan for it. It is this. Say a beautiful hello. Inspired by Joshua Prager’s story: Was I what had been done to me? Were all of … More What Makes Us?
“Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate beings, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.” ~The Symposium, Plato When metal and cowardice explodedon Boylstonfalse men who thought to be gods failed.In this place that built us all,one by one,we fell to the ground, to hard ends, cutting deepestinto … More One Boston
Some birds sit alone. I noticed that, in mornings etched in chill. On a wire, the one holds fast to a space that is far from the group, singular silhouette against a waking sky. But that outline is as solid as the mass of them and seems stronger, still than all together, that scatter with … More Some Birds Sit Alone
Field mice tell lies better than my husband when he began to fail, first in the evenings, counting out the rows and weights of the day’s downed wheat. his fingers an abacus on mother’s old plaid oilcloth. He counted the season’s crop, the winter’s stock, winnowing numbers over and over until no space remained in … More The Farmer’s Wife