Monthly Archives: May 2018
To the sweater knit by my mother
Smelling of the cinnamon on her fingers Knit with soft yarn and verses of her prayers A cushion against the world and its weathers My cozy armor Note: I only… Read more »
Someone Heard
It was a dark and stormy night; amid thunderclaps, I heard his elephantine footsteps approaching my room. I shrank into the carapace of my blanket, like a terrapin, and beseeched… Read more »
