* * * The Hummingbird After the window had closed (it was raining so hard) I told myself just one of those things you say: I’ll begin to love again.…
-
-
* * * Even the Crows At sundown Venus, small __and brighter than the moon blazes in the Western Sky __Lanky Maples dress up their dull grey bones __in an…
-
* * * Bluebird___After The Memorial Granny was busy—sweeping and folding we’d not visited at all since she lost the daughter I’d lost my mother.___Granny, please sit. She perched on…
-
They were reading again. They were reading, and they were waiting. Waiting by the lake. “Lacuna” they read aloud, “Latin for a missing book, or a cavity in bone.” They…
-
Image Credit: Goodreads In middle school, I remember eagerly anticipating the start of S.E. Hinton’s novel The Outsiders. The story, my teacher and friends told me, was electrifying and…
-
* * * resurrection sunday (during the 2020 pandemic) It was 7 am easter sunday i was sitting and sipping tea when a cardinal landed on the balcony, two more…
-
* * * You hold your clenched fist out to me, palm up, fingers wrapped around an unseen object. I hold your gaze as I unwrap them, one by one.…
-
* * * bird, announce * * * rolling * * * versed * * * J.I. Kleinberg is an artist, poet, and freelance writer. She has twice been nominated…
-
The lover speaks in bundles of sentences but does not integrate these sentences on a higher level, into a work; his is a horizontal discourse: no transcendence, no deliverance, no…
-
I was eating cherries out of a jar when Denis Johnson died, my fingers sticky with the slime. Their red syrup coating my teeth, I could feel a cavity forming…
-
* * * 42’55” N, 70’85” W Gulls pick at empty shells, scattered. Sailboats sit on sand, anchors down. A black cardigan harbors her shoulders. wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwNew England is too cold.…
-
When the patrol car pulled to a stop on the dirt road two fields away and three Police officers piled out, we never imagined they were coming for us. A…
-
The family lore is repeated over and over. It becomes so familiar memory mixes with imagination to fill in the spaces. My sister, Maria, loved too much. Here lies Mr.…
-
Image Credit: Carsten Lenz There are four tunnels on the drive between the house I grew up in and the house I live in now. Four hours of black…
Newer Posts