On our children being art

she made paintings, water on color and the pictures sang and the people praised and then she married my grand-dad, a police officer who was never home, and she had two kids, yvonne and peter and her easel became a thing to prop up the laundry, and the colors began to...

how to court your husband

he’s in his robe, the brown one with terry cloth and aiden, to bed, and the house is ours, the night a swing on which to dangle, me in my pajamas, the cotton ones and he puts a hand on the rounded place, the space that grows, the God whirling life...

on Rob Bell and rain

so there’s rob, in all of his blunders and follies and twitter scandals, in all of his passion and his walks through the rain and there’s his deep, deep eyes for people which makes me want to know the kind of God that whispers, “i love you...

for the widows in paradise

the night found me, a room of my own in a sky of moon and tree shadow, and i stopped my dishes, looked up into stars which scripture says he’s counted and that’s when i heard it, as lentils stuck to soup bowl, rice hardened white, and hands aged with the...