Esther

Did I dream her up? I met her in the vegetable garden. It was sometime near my fifth birthday. I was fingering the dense pumpkin stocks and their broad leaves like wall insulation to the touch–misleadingly soft and cozy. Like a five year old herself. She appeared there beyond the ripe orange globes. She stared… Read More Esther

No Title

For how long can we trapeze this love? Before falling      f        a             l l                i                    n                            g with I love you’s and titles. We run from those words, playing hide and go seek For surely those words lead to    I don’t love you              any                  more. For… Read More No Title