Because My Shovel Kills

It is morning, the sun is shining, birds are calling and glinting dew is beaded along grass blades. Or, it is night, a moonless night, and stars are shining above the gardens, the neighborhoods, the beaches, the parking lots, the wars, the deceit, the lovers, the killers. In other words, You. Nothing changes anything. Because there is more than one way to read that, because of that time we drove in silence all...read more

The Sister

by Kathleen MacGregor What I love about family gatherings, is being a sister to my brothers. We play games and laugh and I can see how we’re alike. I see the shadow of me in them and can love my shape. I can hear the echo of my voice in their voices and can love my voice. I love to feel that connection and I can feel it even though we’re playing a card game or tossing a salad. Divided. Part of me is...read more