Who I’m Supposed to Be

There’s nothing like being a full-grown, card-carrying adult fumbling with Elmer’s glue and too-small kids’ scissors. An hour, maybe even two spilled into crafting. Nothing fancy—just inch-wide, eight-inch-long strips of red, white, and green paper glued together to create a Christmas daisy chain. Something about gluing my fingers to the paper (and occasionally to eachContinue reading “Who I’m Supposed to Be”

Somewhere With You

Heading to Toronto, riding the rails. Strands of lights under eaves brighten the shadows. I step into the light of which I’m not. Oddly lovely are the people. A stranger in the cafeteria can’t cope with being known. That blonde, of course she sees, the hate within her like gun powder. A conveyor belt toContinue reading “Somewhere With You”

You, The Creator

With the skill of an artist’s touch on canvas, or a piece of fabric, or a block, or a blank page, something emerges, something within expressed outwardly, as if by magic. I’m no magician, but sometimes when the moon is in its waxing phase, and all the children are resting soundly in their beds, IContinue reading “You, The Creator”