#13 Desires of the Heart

In a brown brick house with a large green lawn in a small town in the South, there lived a young girl who prayed all night long for the Lord to turn her about. And this girl she desired no other wish more than to…

#12 Sweet Cicadas

Cicadas cling on the trunks of my massive pines at least the shells do Don’t know if these are thirteen or seventeen-year ones but their shells are made of sugar black eyes intact legs stick to big bark chunks when I remove them one by…

#11 And Now I Dance

When I was young I learned to dance Not the wild and free response to music But the trained response – ballroom dance Cha-cha, waltz, swing, fox trot, tap But not to the Latin music of my mother I cannot dance like that I told…

11.

I hear it. In the distance. Over the cliffs. The arctic breeze carries the tune. It flies over the waves that crash against ancient granite. A stirring. In my blood. Something ancient like the sea against the stones. The tune rolls on sea air brushing…

10.

Everyone has a color. You’re not a person if you don’t. I don’t know what you would be if you didn’t but you should Pick one. Mine? Blue. My color is blue. Ultramarine to be exact. A glowing blue. One that makes the eyes feel…

#10 Color Me Rainbow

In a world where we are defined by so many factors: what is our religion? What is our sex? What is our gender? What do we want to be? Who are we related to? The older I get, I am convinced it is wise to…

9.

“why?! why?! why?!” “What?” Then she tells me what. An unwelcome guest. In the shower. We live in the city and there are bugs. There are bugs where people are. Maybe people are bugs. (ever think’a that? No, you only think about yourself) I come…

8.

8. Not a day, week, month year goes by that I Don’t think about the weight of the experience you carry I was not there, how could I have been, I hadn’t been given your Existence yet. Your soul was not made apparent to me,…

#8 Preach to the Choir, Not to Me

The thought of attending mass first pops into my head Saturday as I am about to drink a margarita with a double lime. It’s not what it sounds like; I don’t live in the gutter but I am usually so exhausted by the weekend I loathe…