by Emily Wierenga | Jul 4, 2011 | Uncategorized
his hand rests on my arm to still the sobs and i shrug it off. i want to feel the pain, i tell him. there are chip crumbs on his shirt and it’s his turn to look hurt. we’ve married this moment to the Boy with the Striped Pajamas, a movie about a jewish boy... by Emily Wierenga | Jul 3, 2011 | Uncategorized
his breath smells like breakfast sausage. i know this even as i wait at the finish line of my son’s first race. it’s canada day, and i’ve never seen his father so excited. “first we have a pancake breakfast, with sausage and bacon,” he... by Emily Wierenga | Jul 1, 2011 | Uncategorized
Love smells like rain on the earth of his chest where my cheek lies, and he can barely reach me for the child bulging belly but we find a way, and love always does. (for the rest of this mushy weekend post, find me over at michelle’s beautiful place,... by Emily Wierenga | Jun 29, 2011 | Uncategorized
she’s a religious girl, the kind that wears her hair in a bun, the kind in skirts and floral print and one of the first things she did upon getting to the shelter was to order herself a new shirt from sears with lace at the bodice and she felt so scandalous and... by Emily Wierenga | Jun 28, 2011 | Uncategorized
i have a surprise for you, he said at the bottom of the stairs and the night glowed promise and son, asleep, so we slipped out into air that smelled of fading lilacs and there stood a ladder, a silver-leaning against window against roof and my insides shifted for the...