I first met Laura face-to-face on a writer’s retreat at Laity Lodge where we discovered we’re both deep see divers–as in seeing deep. She makes music with her words and on her tin whistle. Some day maybe I’ll buy another harp–a small, portable one–and team up with her for a duet. Or not. […]
One bloom in my mom memory bouquet
They were probably separate Christmases, but they’re tied together to make one bloom in my mom memory bouquet… We still live in the little four-room house. I’m off on another hunt that takes me under the couch cushion, inside a chartreuse kitchen cupboard door, under the gray formica table, behind the toaster, on top of my parents’ dresser, and […]
