She did a little shake, her idea of a seductive shimmy, and her polyester and tulle dress slid down her androgynous hips, and pooled around her bare feet. Lost among the remains of their late-date dinner of Monterey melts and a BBQ sandwich on Texas toast from Whataburger, she stepped into his arms. The secluded … Continue reading Brings all the boys to the yard
She stands at my knee, prancing excitedly like a Lipizzaner on parade. Trying to speak, all she gets out is “gruff, grrrrrufff, gruffff.” I swear she is smiling at me, laughing because I don’t get her joke. I imagine it’s something like, “hurry, Timmy has fallen down the well. Again!” What she’s really asking is … Continue reading Squirrel chaser
Years pass too quickly Tiny blocks and wooden tops Childhood mementos Paint fades, memories ne’er will Kept safe in a mother’s heart
It isn’t for purely aesthetic reasons that cold iron is used to adorn funeral plots. Red as rust, blood has the taste and tang of hematite, the life force of earth. Scrolls of wrought iron circle family plots, and are forged into intricate gates and mausoleum entries. Folklore spins tales of iron crosses, and fleur-de-lis being … Continue reading From little acorns
“You know I’m right,” Libby said, speaking more to her glass of wine than the woman sitting across from her. “As much as I hate to be.” Meredith, her jaws clenched, wanted to argue with her friend, but couldn’t. The two women had been through a lot together. Classmates and best friends since middle school, … Continue reading Sister friend
With this post, I have successfully completed August's National Blog Posting Month. The theme for the month was "Mnemonic," which is "a device used to help remember something." What it made me remember is that I don't like mnemonics, or having to follow rules. Even self-imposed rules. Throughout the week, Monday to Saturday, I followed my … Continue reading Elemenopee
True is it that we have seen better days. Dark are the hours as our time draws nigh. Memories wane, bones rattle, blind eyes glaze, The glory of our youth belie. Mired amongst the coppice, Where the earth doth strive to reclaim, Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, There’s no one ‘cept self to blame.