My father's interrogative, "What, not pau yet? How come?" was always followed by my mother's declarative, "No, not pau yet." followed by my unvoiced imperative, "Do it yourself, den!" My…

He is here to visit his dying grandmother. She lives in an apartment building a few blocks away from where we live, and where he spent his childhood, walking to…

And we are paying, the Dow falling precipitously in the shale of greed. Now I have portion control. My husband grows skinnier. I divvey up the stone potatoes, stone carrots….

After the fire, an act of devotion. Thousands of women cut their hair for the thigh-thick braids of hair ropes that lifted the heavy spruce beams taken from medieval loam….

we ponder. Pull them out, as from a magician's hat. Small at first, the questions– like the easy trick of making a quarter appear from the petal of a child's…

are your companions in life– your memories— that can spring out of nowhere. Take you to a childhood afternoon or light a mountain trail you once walked– the same light…

Isn’t rounder or stronger. Not a face to be afraid of in its song. It is kinder, more gentle, glow-softened by petticoat-white lights, ruffled as oncidium orchids. . . ….

of what lay beneath the glassy surface of the sea before you, made you want to dive deep into its dark-blue secrets and trapped air. You have finally reached bottom….