Stone by stone,we drag and stack,the fallen limbs of yesterdaysnap against restless winds of today. Sturdy knees bend,shadows sway deep blue —our bearbag hangs, makinga moon of its own. Stone by stone,we sit, heavy-hipped,hair pulled awayfrom the damp of our necks. On a Narniac throne of sheetrock,we watch the sun foldbehind the Allegheny River —whereContinue reading “Stone by Stone”
Tag Archives: Change
P is for Polka Dot
Five years of wonder, you sit beside me wrapped in a bright beach towel. Your sun-bleached hair, wet and soppy, mopped into twizzler strands. The chlorine odor lifts from your shoulder, between teenage whistles and splashing water. Soon, we will pop open a honey jar and peel the thyme for our pickled strawberries. But first,Continue reading “P is for Polka Dot”
The Word Mill 