It’s fall in the garden and the leaves on the basil freckle with black.I am thinking of the signs of my father dying. It’s easy enough to see in my plants; the cilantro, albeit cold-clever,…
Browsing Category Poetry
I Blame the Peach
I.I feel the tickle on the pink of my lips before it touches my mouth. Anticipation is only possibility. Idon’t bite. The peach sits in the fridge, the skin too perfect to puncture, if it…
Jaclyn & the Birds
Photo by David Clode on Unsplash
Elegy, One
for Wendy 1973-2019 Photo by Sirisvisual on Unsplash
Waiting & The Sand of the Syrian Desert Apologizes to the Armenians
Photo by Stefanie Jockschat on Unsplash