Our Spring Will Come

Sidewalks are the new riverbed. Water rushes down the slightest incline over cracks that break your mother’s back. Liquid leans over the frozen curb and flows down the path of least resistance. But not you, little boy. You pick the hard way. You bypass smooth terrain...

Laugh Lines {A Lullaby}

Several years back, well before I became a mother, I sat in a middle school library helping one of my English language learners with her homework. She was a good student but fortunately wasn’t as obsessive as some of the students in her home country who...