Abington Friends Schoolinthe writer’s classroomSummertimeIn day cast by headlights, shadows stumble over skin — butterfly-thin.Nov 12, 2015Nov 12, 2015
Abington Friends Schoolinthe writer’s classroomPlumYesterday my brother comes up to me, paintbrush in hand, eyes mischievous, grabs my wrist twisting gently so my palm lay face-up in his…Nov 12, 2015Nov 12, 2015
Abington Friends Schoolinthe writer’s classroomSummer HazeIt is summer. The child is barefoot. She is barefoot and scab-kneed in the creek that runs by her house. She smells slightly like mulch and…Jun 9, 2015Jun 9, 2015
Abington Friends Schoolinthe writer’s classroomLight1. when light lands on valleys it sounds like a powerful gulpJun 9, 2015Jun 9, 2015
Abington Friends Schoolinthe writer’s classroomIllusionBriefly I dwelt upon my mother’s tongue…. as a fantasy kind and intelligent my mirage carries only my features but none of my weaknessesJun 9, 2015Jun 9, 2015
Abington Friends Schoolinthe writer’s classroomThe Dark ManDear Dark Man Haven’t dialogued in a while, he knowsJun 9, 2015Jun 9, 2015
Abington Friends Schoolinthe writer’s classroomLittle MistressI was no more than six when my throat first felt the clench of pressureJun 4, 2015Jun 4, 2015
Abington Friends Schoolinthe writer’s classroomRosinWhen I was ten and that buttery palm sized resin was placed into my hand, I clutched it gently with my fingers. I wrapped it in clothJun 4, 2015Jun 4, 2015
