giving way

          “How long before the eaves gave way to the sky, or the bathroom floor was jack-hammered to bone, while the trees outside were left to redirect the wind? How quickly the den must have become more kitchen and bedrooms lost their privacy. I see the books we’d packed up and moved years ago under a pile of fresh rubble,…

the way home

          “But every memory is turned over and over again, every word, however chance, written in the heart in the hope that memory will fulfill itself, and become flesh, and that the wanderers will find a way home, and the perished, whose lack we always feel, will step through the door finally and stroke our hair with dreaming, habitual fondness,…

land among the stars

                              but the stars are falling     Westborough State Hospital (psychiatric hospital) 1848 – 2010          

the old couple

            two old souls hanging out ragged around the edges perfectly comfortable        


        she once made me a rag doll with a mop of yellow yarn hair