at night we hang the balls precise to fill in color that the gaps need most. and always I adorn the tree with ornaments just at the edge hanging very low and clustered much too close – come morning and I see the tree with all my work shifted around and changed! and hanging up, […]Read more "Hanging Christmas Balls"
This poem is for my mom—an intelligent, fun, beautiful woman who could have done anything she wanted. But she chose to be Mom to my five siblings and me, not just in her free time, but 24/7. The gift of growing up with her is one that I will treasure forever. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! […]Read more "Beneath the Glass"