I wake up groggy this morning because of the allergy meds my doctor prescribed. I’m not sure which is worse, though: trying to sleep with a stuffed-up nose, or feeling a bit nauseous all night from the meds.
So I’m elated when the clock finally turns to 5 a.m. I jump out of bed, remembering “I have yoga today!”
The night-time anti-congestion pill has worn off by the time I’m sipping my first cup of tea, though, and I begin to worry. Continue reading
Once upon a time, a new being was pulled out of my belly, literally, and after a weighing and a cleaning, she was placed in my arms. I was awake and could feel nothing below my breasts. But my arms tingled with the weight of her, and my eyes watered with her beauty. Continue reading
IF IT DIDN’T SOUND SO CRAZY, I’D WRITE a story about a mermaid and a farmer.
IF IT DIDN’T SOUND SO CRAZY, I’D WRITE an essay on a magical moving pen.
IF IT DIDN’T SOUND SO CRAZY, I’D WRITE a book about a ghost with a moving murmur.
IF IT DIDN’T SOUND SO CRAZY, I’D WRITE a tale about a wolf and a wren who share a den. Continue reading
On holidays, my far-away family makes sure we talk to each other on the phone sometime during the day: my brother calls from Maryland as his wife scurries in the kitchen, my guy’s siblings call at usually a most inconvenient time, like when we’ve just sat down for dessert. But still, we stop, we exclaim Happy Fill in the Blank (Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year, Easter) and we fill up with love.
Which brings me to the phone conversation with my son toward the end of Easter. Continue reading
We need to be sensible, we’re told,
yet if we forgo the sensitive, our poems won’t unfold. Continue reading