When we were younger, we leveled footprints in the woods—off the path, of course, down deep where the sun could barely find us, where we blended with the trees and hid behind the shrubbery. I found a deer, small, its eyes glazed and wide, still hiding...
HE SAID I WROTE ABOUT DEATH and I didn’t mean to, this was not my intent. I meant to say how I loved the birds, how watching them lift off the branches, hearing their song helps me get through the gray morning. When I wrote about how they crash into the...
Hi everyone! I know it’s been a while again. But here I am: quiet little me, doing quiet not-so-little things. I’m in the process of starting a small feature series called The Curve with Write around the Bend, in preparation for their literary...
—To my fellow Benders, I threw on my grief. MY DUMB HEART is open wide and overflows with water. How I manage to stay alive is beyond me. I like...
David Dodd Lee has been there with me since the beginning—not since the beginning of my reading and loving poetry, but of my writing poetry and taking that progress seriously. Of taking poetry seriously, and the idea that there was something to be taken...