Exit Wound

It is final—her death. Her short life is over. An accumulation of her 40 years was enough to produce a kind of life which— when ended— shot bullets of grief through her family and friends, and even those of us who know her now only by the stories she left behind. If only the lastContinue reading “Exit Wound”


Somewhere else churches are burning and the humans here in my house grit their teeth and shake their heads and close their eyes and listen to reports of what it means to live in fear and what it feels like to be knocked down by history rising up on the backs of cowards who strikeContinue reading “Light”

Another Day

You are alive next to me breathing without difficulty and I smile at you imagining all those times I’ve pondered your death and how I’d live without you if I forgot your Epipen or your inhaler if we went for a walk or visited the zoo or were stuck in traffic twenty minutes away fromContinue reading “Another Day”


We don’t take them like we used to like we planned to like we promised ourselves we would when we were young and brave and much more beautiful than we thought we were. Risks were never quite as life or death as they are now in this losable house that is paid for, in thisContinue reading “Risks”


My two children are laughing in the back seat and I’m behind the wheel of this small enclosure driving 70 miles an hour about to cry because the orangutans were supposed to be the highlight of this summer day— this guilty pleasure of visiting the zoo. Last summer, we peeked through the fence and marveledContinue reading “Cages”