The Icebox

The Icebox

In my dream, I held too many things in my hands and my fingers grappled and fumbled with the load afraid I’d drop one as I stumbled down the road for I’d balanced several things atop an icebox and my dream-drunk brain was slow, weighted down with sand...
Broken: a poem for Elijah in his grief

Broken: a poem for Elijah in his grief

When he broke, the yoke of him spilled out and there was an anger in his sadness. Horror at the young boy’s laughing shout, the sickening mirth and ringing gladness over the destruction his hands had wrought. The boys had found the nest beneath the leaves on a...