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To the Woman Who Loved Him First
To the woman who loved him first: an open letter to my mother-in-law on my anniversary You loved him first, of course. I think you loved him better, too. Now that I am a mother, I know this. There is...
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Crusts and Middles
Crusts Crusts piled up on the cutting board in a neat mountain of crumbs and edges. Dark sides with white underbellies gathered to the side. My knife cut away the unwanted bits, leaving perfect squares...
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The Sweet Middle
The sweet middle He sidles up to me and takes my hand as we walk along past the reclusive tiger and the shaggy sloth bear. The sun tosses freckles across my son’s nose, and the air hugs us close. His...
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When Your Heart is Hard Toward Your Child
It was a long season of unrelenting conflicts. Day after day, they beat on me like a hot sun until I felt like I had all but dried up. My heart was baked hard and impenetrable, drawn out from my body...
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Mr. Whitter’s Cabin
Mr. Whitter’s Cabin Mr. Whitter lives two doors down on the opposite side of the street. He owns an old hunting dog named Rosie and a faded blue ten-speed which he sometimes pedals up the hill to...
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