memory

The Fracturing | Poetry

The Fracturing | Poetry

The Fracturing BeforeRepressed Memories Resurface, April 2017 Before I fracture, Before I fracture, I am pastures of butterweed, the silence of river bottoms, gravel roads to so many nowheres, and the howl of a Tuesday siren. I am the indigo sky that creeps over the...
The Happening | Poetry

The Happening | Poetry

My mother would drive us to the Laundromaton Saturday mornings. I’d sit in the backof her old green Volvobetween baskets of blue, yellow, and pink.She’d sing “Where Did Our Love Go”with Diana Ross and The Supremes on the radio.We’d park under the washed-out sign. This...