April 9, 2012
The Weight of Small Hands
We are born into the rhythm of labor, our hands learning the texture of the earth long before they learn the shape...
Category Archive
Reflections
April 8, 2012
The Crisp Breath of Decay
The smell of autumn is not a scent; it is a damp, earthy weight that settles in the back of the throat....
April 8, 2012
The Friction of Wind
The smell of dry grass always brings back the sting of twine against my thumb. It is a sharp, paper-thin burn that...