originally published in New Pop Lit Do you remember the first time? How the light from that candle seemed to brighten even as the rain fell harder against the pane? It was our first night away together, and the thrill of the cheat was offset by our guilt....
originally published in Sand Hill Review Of course, he hadn’t meant to. No man in his right mind would utter the name of a former lover while having sex with his wife. Diane paused for the briefest moment after he whispered, “Nina.” She must have heard. Why else...
originally published January 1, 2018 in Volume 3, Issue 1 of MockingHeart Review Deluge The white horse grays in the deluge Beneath of the limbs of an evergreen The red-handed woman waves me down She wears no coat against the cold, her rubber sandals Are what you slip on to fetch...
Americans are practical people. We think about profit and loss, success and failure, maximizing our utility, avoiding diminished returns. We’re healthy Capitalists. We live for the business model of constant, steady growth. We seek profits at every turn. What if you’re an artist? Or someone for...
Originally published in New Pop Lit SHELTER The party was at Jackson’s place, at the end of an unpaved road, on the eastern tip of the island. In good weather, it was a forty-five-minute drive from town. The weather wasn’t good. The rain had fallen for three days, sometimes turning lighter, even...
Originally published September 5, 2017 in The Caregiver Space Though it has many settings, and spans many decades, my new novel, Women Within, takes place primarily in a retirement home. The three main characters in the book, a ninety-four-year-old woman who slips back and forth through the...
This article originally appeared August 23, 2017 in Book Riot In the middle of my life, I learned that two women I was close to kept deep secrets. At my mother-in-law’s funeral, an old friend of hers approached to tell my husband that he had a...
Find me deep in this cave Dusted with time Pull my bones from the earth Arrange them with care Grant them nakedness beneath the animal hide Despair of their silence, all those secrets withheld Examine my paintings by electric light Dream them by the flicker of fire Look closely at the hand Pressed there...
Clouds converge Suspended Oblivious No rush to rearrange Slow and easy in a Dreamy drift All my talk of storm Ignored Electric words, just noise Now wait And watch the violet sky Fall Crush And grind until Every tender piece Breaks, drifts away Borne aloft by a rush of wind ...
originally published in Squawk Back On Monday it’s about a horse. The eyes are remarkably kind, shy, even flirty under their thick veil of lashes. She looks at Nell from the side, sticking her large soft muzzle over the fence to nudge at her outstretched hand....