Not Easily Mended
“You have retreated from life,” Abuelita says between lines of stitches fired with machine-gun...
an unforgettable fire
from the bed she motions me closer, her dark eyes alluring and deep like...
cloudburst
a downpour slaps mildewed concrete abutting my sliding door, its staccato applause echoing the...
if only the rain
if only the rain washing dusty streets after weeks of summer drought felt cool...
evening song
cicadas fill the stagnant, humid air with their song. the sound is deafening as...
heat waves
six straight days of ninety-eight degrees have kept me locked indoors. my overworked ceiling...
a lazy summer morning
early morning sunshine knifes between the canopy of oak and pine, disturbed by cool...
touch the clouds
as a kid i climbed every tree in my old neighborhood hoping to touch...