Katherine's Coffeehouse

Because they are the damp and rotting leaves of the season,frigid and caustic rain that grips the joints and twists, […]

it’s intricacy left outsidelabyrinth of yarn and loop leftovers fromhandmade days in a horse trough beside Al’s Antiquescheek to cheekwith […]

The turtle has been crushed by a tractor’s heartless wheel, life

Prairie girl dress pulled over my head pecking my way into a smiling black trash bag of pinafores and lace

After a while, we get tired of telling the same story, the one where weare interstitial animals separated by a […]

A draft as we near ThanksgivingFunny, I can’t remember how it sounded,but I still see the open-mouthed look,blackened fillings, tongue […]

I’m over being sorryabout the palm that bothers the cat’s belly in searchof something angora. About fingertips that have given […]

Author's Note: When I was about 15, I was hired part-time as a nurse's assistant in a nursing home. My job was to bathe, dress, feed and care for elderly people, including those with dementia and Alzheimer's.

I am not sure what is more important: to tell you how I used to narrate my life in my mind while I walked the neighborhood as a child? How I never moved my lips, but somehow made more exciting that single horse farm on the corner,

Goodbye to my spine that complains