There are kids on the street, one with a bow in her hair running away and one with a tall stick talking about dragonflies and one sitting on the steps of a house on a hill in a red shirt singing so loud and melodic. There are three more on bikes with their parents standing by. And I'm walking past ( Read more... )

In that short interim between the two of you and your dark hair and your dark eyes, I had a conversation with my mom, that I still remember well. I told her how I imagine babies but my babies don't have dads. No one takes them to school except me, and no one puts them to bed with me. There is no one there, but me, and them. And their dark hair ( Read more... )

Went for another walk, a week later to the minute. How things swing. Let's make a tradition of it. Something about Thursday evenings lasting forever, these days. This time I walked the block where we stood, months ago, holding plates and making conversation. In retrospect, I remember you being distant. You didn't want to walk with us. It was ( Read more... )

5/31/10 ( Read more... )

It was once so important to me to write and be read, speak and be heard. At kitchen tables I would start sentences . . . "today I . . . today I . . . today I . . . today I . . ." and in each of those spaces was someone elses voice being heard. And now there is silence. And silence. And nothing. Not even my thoughts race for something to say. ( Read more... )

As far as weather goes, August felt just like September. September was just like August. October was like November. November was like October. And now, suddenly and uncomfortably, December feels like January. Snow fell and then blew and now there are banks, 19-below wind-chills and ice. Or at least it looks like ice and my car rumbles like a ( Read more... )

The house across the street spent the night burning. At first it could have been a cloud so white against that sky. But the red lights covering the street said otherwise. Spent the next five minutes trying to find my way in a way of one-ways. No way. The buzz of firetrucks put me to sleep. By 4 am a single one remained. Today the house looks ( Read more... )

When it rains on weekday mornings I drive past the corner diner with it's big red sign. The only time I want to be there. When it's raining. Like the stories we wrote in October and read aloud on that porch that, probably still, smells like hot wicker. It was raining then too. And the thunder crashed at the right part in the story, when it's ( Read more... )

Thank you for contacting the City of Minneapolis. You can expect a response from one of our customer service agents within one business day.Every time I see one of my landlords he is wearing a blue plaid shirt. If you stand close enough you can smell his breakfast. He communicates best through email and even then he ends every sentence in a ?, a ( Read more... )

And then there was one ( Read more... )