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Yesterday, my boy was wild. He whooped and circled, dodged the tall thin trunks of Longleaf Pines. Bare feet stamped a forest floor soft with the dead and dying. Here and there, a sharp pine cone brought a yelp
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When LuAnn turned eleven, she hit the wall. “Eleven’s when it happens,” LuAnn says to the stylist teasing Amber’s hair into a high, shimmering web.
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his big Pinocchio nose, and how he shoots the lions and tigers with his white wood trim
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Listen to me, at the end of all things, and I will tell you her story.
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I know I’m slipping
into my mother’s skin. I answer the phone
with her voice; her hands grind the coffee beans.
And who is this listening to NPR in the morning
while the fresh-faced girls in the neighborhood trudge toward school,,
peonies han
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I remember a time when Calvin, my husband, was like Winnie the Pooh and I was a jar of fine Provençal honey. No amount of my sweetness could satisfy his craving for me. He would spread me on his toast with butter at breakfast and mix me with peanut butter
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After Derek and Evan were born, whenever I saw the words from protestors, holding signs like: ‘Children aren't science!' or ‘Cloning is a SIN!' I barely sighed. All that was in front of me, ogling, grasping at nothing, were two beautiful baby boys with a
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That is the point of mom jeans, right? To push your lower stomach fat into a plush ridge around your waist. To make it look like you have a Queen Ann collar under your breasts.
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Still I've said: motherhood is not for me. / And my own mother has cringed, thinking / of how she has tied her whole life / around that role.
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If there was a God he was deaf in both ears, blind in both eyes and dumb.
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The heavyset blind woman came into the art opening without a dog or a cane.
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Susie watched the record, her mouth agape just slightly, the spinning vinyl unveiling the powerful sound of a voice she'd wanted to hear her whole life.
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