I have asked my husband, What do you think she will look like? He frowns, and I know there is no answer. Not right now. All… Read more “Anticipating Her Arrival”

  The act is violent, the tearing open, the skin. I imagine bird claws, the talons, a wind breaking open between two buildings. The mouth, agape. And… Read more “Due Date”

  And then I look to the fall trees, and I wonder if they ever think, “I am running out of leaves.” They probably do, they with… Read more “I Am Running Out of Poems.”

  Crab is such an ugly word—the hard k, its suddenness. I’m steeped in these small pools, or perched on the surrounding rocks and sand, one hole… Read more “Searching Tide Pools for Shore Crabs”

  I go out into the world, looking for strawberries like the ones from my mother’s garden. They were small and firm, sweet but bitter, dirt caught… Read more “Garden Stems”

  Yesterday, I spent the day sleeping away my life. It was peaceful, the blankets all clustered near the back porch door, and all the doors and… Read more “Untitled; An Accordion”

  I want to get back into drawing, the pencil in my hand, the thick charcoal under my nails. I keep collecting spare pieces of paper, of… Read more “Collecting Horses”