my mother’s prayers

i think of her as i rock, the world a spindle of mothers, unraveling in house coats and tousled hair, our bodies nursing babies and the thread of life on a spit-up clothi think of mum and how she gave herself to me, how she gave body and midnight sleep to me and how...

Guest Post and Book Giveaway: Emily Freeman

The thing about being an artist is sometimes you’re the last one to know. I spent a lot of my life making art – copying down song lyrics, taking photos of things at odd angles, making up short stories in my head – but I never called it art. I just called...

when there are too many unpaid bills

lighter shades of eyes let in more light, she tells me, and i smile, my eyes green-blue. that’s good, i whisper. and there it is, in the outline of the leaves falling and aiden and i are chasing it, this light, in the woods by our house. aiden, babbling to the...