I can’t heal the world, not on my own. Can’t heal America, can’t do much beyond my own limited vision.
And yet… Continue reading
prompt
Grim Harvest
Lilimor slipped out the back gate, trotting to the meadow as fast as her little legs could carry her. She’d wanted to arrive at sunrise, before anyone noticed she was gone. Continue reading
Bananas/No Bananas
They leaned over the kitchen table, matching bookends on either side of volumes of generations. NPR broadcasters mumbled background from the kitchen counter. Continue reading
The Shining Golden Pig
In this endless summer:
Dripping slabs of watermelon are handed to overheated children, and hailstorms rip through vinyl siding. Continue reading
To Unravel, or Repair?
The spell had existed, long before she’d begun chronicling by gathering their hair. Candle-lit, she bent over the long braid, a weave of auburn, nut-brown, curly black, and her own pale blonde. Continue reading
Sharing Dream Time
She rolls in flickering blue and white, darts between other bodies, slick and shining, touching but not colliding. Breaching, she leaps into the moon, heavy with promised bounty. She swallows silver light, joyfully sated as it fills her center. Continue reading
Queen of the Night*
Creamy cactus buds, feathered with pink curving petals.
Shy flamingos sparsely shelter in thick, darkly unassuming leaves.
Sun sets, ushering in the cooling desert dawn,
The Queen’s one chance at immortality.
Valley of the Trolls 