All / Poetry

crows & locusts.

The fields are bleeding. It’s been seven years, they say. The foxes ran through and set the wheat on fire after the ruling and the tribes melted into their armor. I drop this pottery in the dust by my feet, and it breaks and scatters before I can gather the blue-hewn chips into neat, small … Continue reading

All

lit for the sum.

In an effort to remember the books that I keep putting on my to-read-in-the-summer list in my head, here is a listing of what I am reading and what I fully intend to go through as soon as I’m done with Studies in European Lit. I would love more recommendations though. My list includes: 1. … Continue reading

All

the weight.

Somewhere inside of me is a place that hopes that heaven isn’t like the pictures on my grandfather’s wall in the old, mustard-colored den. The room was a restful place: a mahogany davenport against the side wall, old books, and a small black and white television in the corner. But I will never be able … Continue reading

All

hearth.

I am home, sitting by the fireplace upstairs. The brown afghan on the couch is warm but not too warm, and Mom just made lemon tea and went downstairs. I have my Bible and Bleak House on the pillow, and Addie’s staring out the window at the big field and the pine trees next door. … Continue reading