My response to this week’s Go Dog Go Cafe’s writing prompt. My mother hovers above the 55 miles per hour speed limit, cigarette casually in
Tag: Childhood
Shifting Sands
Several years ago I had the pleasure of taking my first and only Creative Writing Class. One of our short in-class assignments was to take
The Untreasure Box
It sits on the edge of my peripheral vision I try not to look at it pretend it’s not there She gives it a name
Where the sidewalk ends
where did your colt legs carry you the day you ran away small pack set upon determined shoulders overstuffed with much-loved books slightly crushed snacks a
second star to the right, straight on til morning
he found her under the porch where wounded animals hide to lick their wounds alone heartbeats racing bodies trembling tears trailing down faces covered in
The Untreasure Box
It sits on the edge of my peripheral vision I try not to look at it pretend it’s not there She gives it a name
second star to the right, straight on til morning
he found her under the porch where wounded animals hide to lick their wounds alone heartbeats racing bodies trembling tears trailing down faces covered in
Shifting Sands
Last Spring I took my first Creative Writing Class. One of our short in-class assignments was to take a pleasant memory and write it as
Wildling Child-Our Lady of Lust and Grace
This spectacular piece resonated so deep within me. I have lived in this house. I have been this wilding child. Thank you Nicole Lyons for
