Sirens crescendo, decrescendo on the street–ears feel stuffed with sound, crowding out the spaces for other noise to come in or for silence to sit for just one minute. It is not a siren from the sea tempting me to forget home because home is the siren. It is my prized, idealized seashore with soundsContinue reading “Sirens.”
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Nephews.
Romping of little feet, little gasp and screech when I come through the door; my name never sounds as sweet as from your mouths. Trains strewn on the carpet, we whisper stories together of magic toyboxes until you’re ready for another game. Sideways glances when I ask you a question– I laugh because you knowContinue reading “Nephews.”
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