Rooted
A yipping serenade of small dogs bursts/from my grandmother’s house when I open//the chain-link fence to the backyard, a version/of Eden that moved to the South and let itself//grow over.
Communion
There is a picture of me at four years old helping my grandmother to plant summer/squash in her backyard garden; the two of us kneeling in freshly tilled dirt, my…
Home-Grown Serotonin
This year I did something I never thought I’d do: I went off my medication for my depression and anxiety…
quick-write: childhood home
Maybe when you approach it, it won’t look like much. Houses are far and few, but chicken houses abound—if it’s an unlucky day you will smell them. Hills bow up…
Over-Planting
This year was my first attempting a full-blown vegetable garden, and now that autumn has really hit I would say it was a modest success–by which I mean, I finally…
Ancestry
**alternative version published in issue 3 of Stone Fruit Literary Magazine** I walk a thin and unkept road of rocks,of dirt & roots, of things forgotten—lost& found. Those afternoons spent…
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