I was fifteen years old
When I found the moon in the Biabanak sand dunes.
I like the sweet accent
Heard on the stairs this morning:
Persian with a hint of American.
By now she’s tired of stories spotlighting her early deeds, actions too endearing to be plotted, or the years before she came, blanks of time distant as fires in the … Continue reading
At least my father did not betray anyone. It was the plaque in his brain that betrayed him. As for my ex—well, time passes, and I see how some … Continue reading
Early July, ninety degrees in the shade and me in the crook of my mother’s arms. She has her movie star sunglasses on, purple cat-eye glasses with iris-tinted lenses. … Continue reading
Lea wants to change her name to Tina. Her mother says she must think very carefully because a name has to fit. The wrong name can bind like someone else’s … Continue reading
. ‘Galway Kinnell was inarguably a great poet. Among the subjects he was best at were steadfastness in marriage and parenthood. In his famous poem “After Making Love We Hear … Continue reading
I search for the red-handled Phillips-head among the clutter of Dad’s Air Force toolbox; the obsolete, English-sized wrenches, the vise-grips and channel locks looking to grasp smooth shouldered bolts with … Continue reading