by Emily Wierenga | Nov 16, 2011 | Uncategorized
he stumbled down the street in his pajamas and cardigan, cars swerving around this old man who wore desperation on his face andif we truly knew the weight of the world, we would never rise from our knees.he didn’t see the cars, the way his face was twisted in... by Emily Wierenga | Nov 15, 2011 | Uncategorized
we walk, and we remember: trent’s papa, the man who did magic tricks and made gun powder in his kitchen and ate fried chicken every sunday, we remember his life and the lives of the saints, here in the snow.flags placed by the stones of the veterans, souls dug... by Emily Wierenga | Nov 11, 2011 | Uncategorized
An elderly woman in the waiting roomat the doctors office won’t stop staringat me, except when something drastichappens on the corner TV.It’s the afternoon stories, which all havethe same characters, just younger actors,they had when my aunt used to keep... by Emily Wierenga | Nov 9, 2011 | Uncategorized
We’re covered in paint, and the lawn is too, fenced in brown, the geese calling autumn and trees dropping leaves. Everywhere, color. Color is music for the eyes.We’re finger-painting in the grass, my son and I. He’s one-and-a-half and he’s never done this before.... by Emily Wierenga | Nov 8, 2011 | Uncategorized
The wind blows and dry grass rustles, and I run, to the applause of a thousand feeble hands. They’re clapping in the wind. And it’s the applause of the saints. And I think of my mother in law, bowing low on her parent’s farm as a healer from Africa prayed over her,... by Emily Wierenga | Nov 6, 2011 | Uncategorized
he tells me i have a pretty nose and i blush as though we haven’t been married eight and a half years and i hear Jesus in his voiceand when i swear and yell, so tired of being good, he just holds me, and there is Jesus in his armsand sometimes Jesus smells like...