Of Our Remembrances We don’t want to remember what illuminates the smallness of our hearts, as on the morning I saw you grip your knees and break into a cold perspiration that glistened on your face like glycerin tears. I wanted to be off, out of the house, and free of you– the gnarly trees…

You were once told, “No matter what happens you can always come home.” Come home, I’ll be waiting. So will the fields, the tree by your window, the collection of match-box cars on the sill. Your room is as you left it. Clothes that smell of you remain in the closet. I haven’t had the…

He Just Had to Make Sure I did too. I ran back to the house. I saw that nothing had changed. The fish swimming in loose circles under the same stars nesting in the trees. Rooms cupping our laughter poured into the hands of the mornings. Our pillow whispers, roaming, lazy as sleep walkers. Our…

Plug On That’s the way we do it. In the early mornings, far into the night. on planes, in cafes, during a work break. We turn the words over, in our heads while walking or driving to the supermarket, or taking the children to school; our worlds over, to churn out the stories, cast our…