Cherry, Cherry, why do you weep? Is it due to your exquisite beauty, Produced without obligation or duty? Do you weep happy streams of rosy tears, Rejoicing in the spring season that nears? Cherry, …

What did I want to do when I came back to write — to detail the drift — two wild hares a dead mouse, a tiny beautiful owl one of the hares chewed up and now this —a tortoise’s muddy back — …

The lone cicada wing caught my eye, light reflecting off its surface as it lay still on the kitchen floor, its unexplained dismemberment belying its brief, frenzied existence. I rubbed it gently between …

The other morning, coming downstairs, I sensed a tingling in the air - a freakish early morning lightning streak perhaps. But then I caught the scent of buttered toast and the sounds of kitchen …

The day after my mother’s death, my niece and I pour through photo albums, find a box of loose, curled, snapshots — images of the massacre at Gardelegen —a barn door opened by American …