Poetry

The Home We Will Remember I am born in the black hills of eastern Kentucky to a young woman...

My little sister is beautiful.She has our father’s eyes, brown.Her mother’s skin—light, blinding. Something in her skin draws meand I look like a confused scribble,a Black mask, in...

Mid-Thirties Toddler, pigtails loosening,hides behind her mother’s legs,two tiny hands around one adult knee.Mother leans down,whispers in her daughter’s ear.Child smiles,tilts her head to one side,knee-grip loosens. I, too,...

Sheltering in Place The desert wind outside my window howls.Tree branches, desiccated by the rainless winter,toss and rustle with eerily sibilant sounds.The wind itself moans as it angles...

Ariadne Awakens   She smoothed the creases in the bright blue sky, and when he arrived, there was barely time to clear the space between them of ash, coffee...