• AND UNDER THIS ROCK

    There is one thing that noneof the books on discoveringwho you are when you areadopted bother to tell you. If they did, it wouldn’t changeanything, but it is a burdenyou assumed you’d easily bearthat grows heavy with time. What they don’t warn you isthat you will discover yourself,your heritage that was deniedto you for one…


  • ON THIS NIGHT

    On this nighthe walks silentlyinto her dream uninvited,but she is usedto the incursions.On other nights itis she who sidlesup to him in the depthsof dreaming, eachslipping awayahead of dawn.On rare nights eachenters the dreamsof the other, pathscrossing atthe synaptic border.On those nightsshe looks for him,he for her, eachgrows fearfulthe he or shewill be trapped,alone, when…


  • NIGHTLY PRAYERS

    My mother always told me to saymy prayers before bed, which was oddgiven that she never prayed, and didn’tas far as we could tell, believe in a deity. I knew, as my Rabbi taught, that you do notseek something for yourself in prayer,and world peace and harmony did notseem on the horizon despite my entreaties.…


  • ON LOSSES

    By the way, the headstone is lovely,designed by your niece, it pays tributeto you as aunt, as sister, as friend. I do wish it had said mother as wellbut I know I’m the one secret you thoughtwould fit into a corner of the pine box,buried with you, to be, like you, reclaimedby the rocky soil…


  • A SIMPLE CHOICE

    It is a simple choice, she said,bicycles or a cat. I wanted to tell her thatthere are no simple choicesin the middle of a pandemic,and those that seem that way,to mask or not, to shop or notcan be life or death choices. I thought about the optionsfor a few moments, rememberedthe cats I still mourn…


  • LESSONS

    The most important lessons he taughtwere in those moments when he wasabsolutely silent, the smile acrosshis face shouting across the backgrounddin of everyday life, his eyes widewith a sort of childish awe that I hadlong since given up as adolescent. The child sees everything for the first timeregardless how many times she hasgazed at what…


  • A VISIT

    I’ve always imagined that one of these nightsI’d see my mother’s ghost. I would welcome the sightwelcome she that bore me, not she that stepped inin a way,absolving my birth mother of her sin,while assuming adopting me would make her complete. She hasn’t visited yet, neither has done so,but I hold out hope, it is…


  • IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES

    It is all well and good to believethat you will know it when you find it,that it will be so obvious you could not miss it. You’ve been down that road before,and on several occasions were certainthat you’d found it in her face, or hers,in her smile, or her laugh, or oneof their soft touches…


  • DEFLATED DREAMS

    when did youthful dreamsslip awayerodeget consumed byparentsteachersor simply abandoned reality, yourstheirs a poor substituteall edgesand pointspiercing hope love once (a) givenrendered faint hopeworse, impossible dreamdelusion? you wantto think notwant so muchcan’t havebad for youwe know goodwhen we give itnone for you timepast sogrow up


  • THE MISSING KEY

    You said you’d leave a keyunder the mat on the front stoop,or was it taped atop the light fixturejust to the right of the door jamb top? Well I checked both placesand there was no key to be found,so perhaps it slipped out, got kickedand someone absentmindedly took it and saved it meaning one dayto…