It requires a good washing to ready the planks.  From inside, where I scrub unseen demons from our stainless steel sink, rubbing at the curves, pressing down with my fingers, I hear the steady pounding of water.  I hear the rapid smack against the windows, the siding, the beams.  The word wash feels too soft, […]

In the beginning, nothing.  I stand at the edge of a wide, blank canvas.  From the street, as the first light cracks open the sky, I only see a broad, smooth, sandy plain, and beyond this, a dazzling sheet of silver glass.  For a number of days, I disconnect everything and step away, wiping it […]

In the blaze of afternoon, we slide our chairs up to the table, turning coffee mugs with our fingers, light and quick.  Let me look at you, I think, but I don’t say it aloud; my teenager finds overt attention awkward.  I want to say “parenty” things she will not believe until she sits at a […]

Friday morning, while the light’s still new, Adam slides his Father’s Day gift out of hiding. “Play golf,” Adam says, pausing the game he’s playing on the Xbox, sauntering over to where Kevin and I stand talking, dropping the words like a couple of coins in Kevin’s palm.  Adam watches our faces, looking for something–a […]

Early morning and the way feels long, as though I’ve meandered for miles without a full inhale, and my finger pauses over this verse: “When Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them on the road through the Philistine country, though that was shorter (Exodus 13:17).”  I imagine the way those freed women felt, wrapping […]

Knife taps against cutting board and the onion cries.  The delicate scarlet rings fall, hiding the slicing scars, all those crisscrossed lines like a haphazard tally of breaths.  If only the flavors–peppery and sun-soaked and honey-sweet–lasted as long as the evidence of our cooking.  A sigh slips as I turn my burning eyes away from the […]

It takes a hammer and a knife-sharp nail–a good, shuddering whack to the thick, fat beam, but it’s done.  I step back, admiring.  The sign, a small, artfully worn thing as black as night, says gather here.  I hang it on the porch, where it’s sweet, simple command rounds out a semi-circle of rocking chairs–one summer-sky […]

When we round the corner, she gets up from where she sits, pushing open the door.  I can see the cold, straight legs of a card table through a narrow opening; I can tell she has hair the color of straw, that she wears a rose-colored shirt.  Even before she stands in the doorway holding […]

Mid-morning and they wander out to me, rested and fresh from sleep, blanket lines on their high-boned cheeks.  Riley’s brassy hair swings out from her shoulders, lifted by the breeze, as she settles into the chair across from me, carrying her breakfast.  “Happy birthday, Mom Jones,” she says, while Zoe gently drops a present on […]

Kevin walks in the door and the afternoon rushes right in with him.  It’s as though the jostling traffic, the dying sun, and dozens of fading fragments of conversation cling to his shirt sleeves, his warm cheeks. They fall off his shoulders, these things, as the strap from his leather bag falls to the floor […]