Black cherry, unmarred beneath truck tire. Peach- rose, slapping reflection against window, like palm. The second bouquet of flowers you...

The tarp on a passing fruit truck flapping in desert wind like the thing at the back of the throat. Desert breath. My question to the cab...

Moab. Pretending my body is a horse, my hiking boots hooves, my backpack a super-saddle for all the people I love. People I wished would...

I love swimming. But sometimes, before or after we tumble in that ocean, I want to walk to the rocks of you, slowly. Come face-to-face...

In Writing Group last week, I asked my friends to finish the sentence, "What's true is . . ." over and over. We were going for...

Can be eyes, staring. Blindfolds, covering. A search party of ten, fumbling in the dark for the lost but sensed. With you, as close as...

Here I am, waiting for my father's text again words like hands who don't know they hold me. Here I am, stomach grumbling because someone...

Joy has curly hair–brown and luscious like her mother, Worry, who, even though she doesn’t talk to anymore, has come to love and respect....

There is a point in the day, usually the end —sometimes the very last second— (and more often that, lately) when the beauty of the world,...

Inspiration to think differently as you begin the new year. Dear Reader, Mesopotamian civilizations began their new year in March to...