Rummaging through a drawer I come across a key that I do not recognize. Perhaps a house key, maybe not this house, but another now forgotten. I should throw it out the locks are probably changed but I won’t, at least not...Read More
Publishing poetry, fiction, non-fiction, & visual art from creative minds around the world.
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Soon after Nancy and the Gipper won the White House, March of 1981, I fled Ronnie’s trickle-down economics by heading toward Kingston to a little run-down farmhouse and a few out buildings, a place called “Dandelion.” It was an...Read More
I write by candlelight on my back porch. Even though the calendar reads December 21, the evening air is unseasonably warm for upstate New York. Needing only a sweatshirt to keep me warm, I wait patiently to watch the sunrise,...Read More
Sitting in an airport at 4 a.m. in a foreign country can be surreal, but we were tired enough to make it downright hallucinatory. We’d flown from Asheville, North Carolina, to Atlanta to Frankfurt to Amsterdam with excruciating...Read More
The view from our house is nothing short of sublime. We dine every evening to a fiery, impressionistic sunset over the Pacific and wake every morning to its idyllic glass surface. Often there is a powdery mist of marine layer...Read More
People expected that I would be sad in the early weeks and months following the death of my husband, Richard. But a year has now passed, and I’m learning there’s an expiration date on grief. Though unspoken, a shared expectation...Read More
A daycare center my friend and I created and operated in her house that was a two story 1920’s tan Tudor like my husband’s and mine just down the street. Her husband went off to his law firm in a suit every morning while we fed,...Read More
Yesterday my brother told me I was being too opinionated when I made a comment about how he related to his adult daughter. Agreed, perhaps some things should go unsaid. I apologized for getting on my high horse and he was...Read More
As a kid growing up in the seventies, I felt safe when I visited my grandparents for Sunday dinners. It was fun to go there. Their Queens, New York home had a small, manicured patch of grass in the front yard that bordered the...Read More
"Stupidity has a knack of getting its way."