I’ve lived on the banks of a river that is the stuff of legends—those storied waters that cradled civilization and was the bridge between life and death for the ancients. It is obvious why Egypt is called “the gift of the Nile” once you spend a couple months in the sandy, dry heat. No life […]
Liberated from Fear
by on April 16, 2019 Leave a Comment
I wasn’t always afraid. After graduate school, I hopped on a plane to a village 60 kilometers outside of Prague where I lived for a year in a construction building and taught English as a Foreign Language at a local Gymnázium (high school). My roommate and I occupied two rooms in the construction building. The […]
Who Will Pluck My Chin Hairs?
by on April 11, 2019 Leave a Comment
My mom and I once made a solemn vow: If either of us is ever in a coma, we promise to pluck one another’s chin hairs. My petite, five-foot-tall mom once grew out a single hair to see how long it would get. The coarse black hair spiraled below her chin until my brother and […]
I Am Métis (Part II)
by on April 9, 2019 Leave a Comment
I am Metis. I practice saying these words to myself. Often. Still. I look at my fair skin and my grey eyes and my baby-fine, mousy-brown hair and I say the words. I close my eyes in my cluttered kitchen in my suburban home and picture the swaying grass on the banks of the Red […]
As the Anniversary of My Mom’s Death Approaches
by on March 28, 2019 Leave a Comment
The body remembers. It keeps tabs and intuits cycles. The doing the feeling the becoming all tangled together. Not unlike last year’s morning glory vines braided together, now brown from frost after frost after frost. Whose roots are plump with green, waiting while the light stretches long About a month before The date something shifts […]
