he falls into sleep with his children in his arms and his wife by his side. he awakes, startled but rested. in the dark she whispers, you are home, you’ve always been welcomed home.
Monthly Archives: April 2008
grave robber
as she fingers the roots shot through her ribs, she wonders if it was a question of need or circumstance, the dying of petals, the swallowing of over-ripened seeds. and from her belly sprung out mischievous cattle that ate upwards the soot and mulch breaking a surface into the sun. beside her grave, he runs his hand over winter hardened grass and pricks his fingers with the memory.