Monday, May 23, 2016

Parenthood is a time of boxes

Parenthood is a time of boxes

    both empty and full. Everything comes to them in a box—high chair, diapers, wipes, car
    seat base, bottle warmer—and is then unboxed. She slices them at the seam, folds them    
    flat, body into shadow, or places them inside each other, nesting dolls.

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

The midday walk brings

The midday walk brings

    purple shutters. A beige house gone blue over the weekend. A grandfather in black and
    white checked pajama pants, carrying his grandson out to collect the mail. They are also
    in the At Home During the Day Club.

Monday, May 16, 2016

For every swath of green

For every swath of green

    there should be one red thing. Freshly shorn lawn with its red mower. Red convertible    
    parked under limbs greening up. Cardinal darting in the leaves of the oak, reminding you    
    that here is your heart alive inside you for so short a time.

Thursday, April 28, 2016

Here are our bees

Here are our bees

    she thinks, protective of both the baby and the bees.

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

What is the correct pronoun

What is the correct pronoun
   
     for her, for me, for the self. These days, she is more aware of the self within her actions.     
    The woman. The girl. The mother. Me.
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