nostalgia

Spring frost

By the end of March I’d started taking Ginger on daily walks up the trails near my mom’s house in Germany. There were two sets of trails, but I didn’t know what they were called so I referred to one… Read More ›

Regret

I imagined the house quiet, after they’d left. I could hear the memory of their voices as they were now, an echo. I could feel my heart pull in the way a hand contracts to a fist, the way a… Read More ›

Weights

At this time of day, this time of year, the butterfly glows gold in the window of our den it’s hung by chains, framed, with dust in the old border and cobwebs strung to the window’s edge the butterfly is… Read More ›