Explore

At the core, a daughter is a self-reckoning emptiness.

Not the Olympics, the guard said. Just chuck yourself down the tube.

There were classes where you became a family. It was a kind of love affair.

As a child I wanted to behold the elusive squid, the patience of eels.

She was painting a bedroom, trying to be a good mother, wife, Catholic.

The joy and anguish of youth, captured in two six-word stories.

“O youth! The strength of it, the faith of it, the imagination of it!”

and still it is summer and each day the sun arouses the kudzu