All love is an afterthought, an ideal that whispers “remember me,” carrying us, wildflowers in a basket, petals falling, lighting on the edge of gravel. Funny how the road boasted victory. I just remember the windlessness, the still miracle that carried us gently, setting us down with purpose. There we waited for the next rain, […]
Every day is fear now, blocking out potential, masking the possible, making it hard to breathe. That’s how sickness works. That’s how blame works. That’s how the world stands: silently, in the rain.
Lighting the lavender votive, I remember you and me, vitamins, mood stabilizers, coffee. And that little tin of scones, blue with sketches of Victorian women, hoop-dressed, press-on rhinestones. How much fun we had sticking those gems on. The Queen would be horrified, we said. Is she?
In the cinema, pudgy recliner holding me in its vinyl hand, your own hand holding mine – I want to laugh at the preview, but only the right side of my mouth moves, upper lip meeting lower cheek, like some lopsided, one-sided kiss. We’re too old to make out in theaters, too young to think
These dark, autumn mornings, and yesterday’s indifferent rain, the calendar bothered by subsiding sun, and some made up bullshit – daylight savings. You can’t save something that isn’t there. You can’t simply rename time, expecting it to change. What is this, politics? Spin it and it’s true? Today is Monday. It’s dark at six, morning
I cannot handle my country handling guns, aiming into the eyes of children, my neighbors, yours, ours. Where is god? Wearing camouflage, in the bushes? Is even he armed? #KatherinesCoffeehouse
I read the news today, oh boy Read More »
When day looms long, heart too small to hold it, Earth, too, pensively looking at the stars, I find it works to encourage a reluctant smile. See how the universe grins back? “Oh, my darling Did you believe for one moment I’d divorce you? You are my beloved. Come now. Step closer. Let us renew
And then, there are days when the world tears itself apart. Or maybe it’s just my heart. #KatherinesCoffeehouse
Never turn back, they say. But my back takes the stone barrage, bleeding faster than gossip, bruising like a damaged fig. What am I, some biblical scapegoat? Bring your bitterness to the Jordan. Drown it. See if you survive. #KatherinesCoffeehouse
For everyone missing their mother, I offer you a memory of mine: She hugged strangers, invited the lonely to dinner in her own home, fed everyone too much turkey and ravioli. Sometimes canned ham, too. And she always mailed us Easter baskets, even when we were grown. All that cheap chocolate, wrapped up in too
