Monthly Archives: August 2016

I Saw a Tiny Woman

Posted on August 14, 2016 by

I saw a tiny woman on page one of the Times. A turquoise scarf holds her flowing hair off the sticky resin she gathers. Where are her sons? For the magenta-poppies sunset in Mayanmar, a sole reporter treks to see … Continue reading →

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Expecting Him Home That Day in Some Kind of Recovery

Posted on August 14, 2016 by

I resorted to hippie-ism and all that morning I baked bread. The dough puffed up like a big pliant sponge, alive and rising in the warm kitchen sun.   I let my hands guide me through shaping loaves then rolling … Continue reading →

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Oregon Beach Town 2016

Posted on August 14, 2016 by

At 13, I smoked in the California sweet shoppe bathroom with the older girls. My sister’s friends called me Volup Bear, and mother loaned them her car. Pebbles spun as two boys raced down the dark hill, wet night glittering … Continue reading →

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