SHUTTERING MY BOY

The shutter catches the reedy boy and his size 44 pants dancing around his hips, the click of metallic and plastic and synchronization familiar in my ear, under my finger. But after he is gone, really gone, and I have processed all of the old rolls of film, every one,...

SHUTTERING MY BOY

The shutter catches the reedy boy and his size 44 pants dancing around his hips, the click of metallic and plastic and synchronization familiar in my ear, under my finger. But after he is gone, really gone, and I have processed all of the old rolls of film, every one,...

LOSING FACE

It’s a complicated story, this face thing. If you  were to analyze all the individual components of my face—eyes, nose, lips, ears, the bone structure, the forehead, the overbite that still is there even after the braces and the strap that was intended to pull the top...

BURNING DELPHINIUMS

I watch Mama lift the stiff shaft of white delphinium into the light. The bulb over the sink is naked. She is naked, too, except for the white scuffs on her small feet. “Mama,” I whisper. She dances across the kitchen floor. Glides actually. “Mama,” I whisper again,...