Poetry: Silky smooth Slipping slowly Covertly covering Scar tissue hot red On delicate alabaster skin blood against snow Fiery crimson lingerie Definitely deceptive Rough ridges rise Revealing the ruse No

Memoir: My son took his first breath. “It’s a boy!” the doctor and nurses shouted, laughing and smiling. They handed his premature, wriggling body to me. “Hello there,” I said,

Poetry: They waited in line at the Dollar Store He bought a red balloon made of mylar. It was blood red and shiny, filled it with helium and tied it

Poetry: Sorcerer of sound, Eros whose arrow points directly into my beloved’s ears, I adore you. Minuscule, featherweight, miracle! You rest so lightly on the flesh of ear canals, transmit sound

Memoir: “Is someone knocking at the door?” I asked. Bob and Max considered the sound. “Yes, I think so,” they agreed. Max surreptitiously walked to the door. Through the vertical

Memoir: Nothing surprises me anymore when I visit Dad at the nursing home. One day he was sitting in the lobby in his wheelchair wearing skimpy lime green track shorts

Memoir: I’m smiling from ear to ear when I decide to move to a tiny town in eastern Washington with my abusive partner, away from my family and everyone I

Memoir: I’d been divorced twice and had a child out of wedlock. I was in no mood for marriage. I did want to date, though. I fantasized I’d meet a

Nonfiction: Ah, gratitude: a simple way to honor the place in which you find yourself; an emotion that encompasses the breadth of a life and lights the sometimes stony path

Poetry: Hiking along rugged, tree-lined trails Deep sobs emerge from hidden woods. A scent of gratitude fills the frosty air. There is peace in surrendering to sadness. Fighting against the