A Year of Being Here

We need to separate to see the life we’ve made. We need to leave our house where someone waits for us, patiently, wa...

I need to go to the bathroom. Help me! Sophie cries, her bent body tense, contorted like a fist beneath the sheets. ...

Out for an early morning walk past cornfields bare this day in March, I pass a stand of maple trees, iron spigots stuck out l...

These woods on the edges of a lake are settling now to winter darkness. Whatever was going to die is gone— crickets, ferns, swampgr...