Wild Strawberries

 They appear in the early summer down the dirt road, low to the ground. Scraggly green, lighter than clover, but the leaves are similar in shape. Take a tin bowl out of the lower cupboard and put your sneakers on in case you run into a snake. You are sore afraid of snakes. Tell your … Continue reading Wild Strawberries

Rivers of Hair

So much hair in this house. A river of shining black. A cascade of curly near-black. Dark brown pigtails. Shorn light brown. Black dredlock dog.  And the eyes framed by the hair: near-black, hazel, bright blue, gray-blue, brown. Hair stroked with a brush in the early morning. Hair tied up with clips and binders. Get … Continue reading Rivers of Hair

Where You'll Find Her

This is where you’ll find her. She’ll be launching her houseboat on the Apalachicola River in northwestern Florida. Her houseboat is very small, just big enough for one, possibly two people. And a dog. The houseboat has a miniature kitchen with miniature appliances. There’s a tiny bathroom with an envirolet toilet and a solar shower. … Continue reading Where You'll Find Her

Dogs on the Beach

Black dog on the sand at sunset. Pouncing on sea foam, racing waves, turning to see how far behind are the man and woman on the sand. Clay-colored dog in the glowing coral house risen high in the dunes. Raising his head and sniffing the salt air. Black dog. Black dog on the sand. Clay-colored … Continue reading Dogs on the Beach

She Dreams of Flying

Birds  of the last three days: Bird, or bat, or winged creature of the nighttime who was imprisoned, and tried to escape, from her bedroom and closet and hall, and from which – cowed by recent and ominous tales of bat attacks – she hid under her blankets. Cardinals in Velta’s back yard who alight … Continue reading She Dreams of Flying

The Seams of Rippage

You and your sister Oatie are learning how to sew in 4-H. Mrs. N  has you stationed upstairs in her home, known as the Cleveland House, because Grover Cleveland lived there for a year, or a month, or possibly a day or so, when he was a little boy. What are you sewing? You are … Continue reading The Seams of Rippage