With the scarlet walker a grandson calls “Abuela’s bike,” my mom rolls to a setof padded chairs behind the last pews. The woman next to us is hunched over,crooning to a cream-colored dog. Neon fleece proclaims it to be a serviceanimal—the same way I might whip up some vestments on my Bernina, andcall myself a... Continue Reading →

parallel parking spotswhen I’mthe one driving the space between an earnest comment and unwelcome advicebutton-fly jeansleft in the dryer too longwhile I wrote this my hold on this messy life now that I know Read More in Poetry

Portrait of Anne, Countess of ChesterfieldThomas Gainsborough, 1777-78Oil on CanvasJ. Paul Getty Museum, Los AngelesShe steps in frontof the mammoth portraitshooting me a similar smileas I’m reading howGainsborough usedloose brushwork to show texturein the drapes and foldsof the Countess of Chesterfield’s dress.Her hair echoes the azure skirt,spiky blue tips shimmeringin the gallery lights.After a moment... Continue Reading →

Do you remember I read to you those cloudy afternoons? You sat intheir big bed like a doll, dark eyelashes brushing flushed cheeks.That mad artist, Pneumonia had painted dark circles underyour eyes, and played a merciless, barking cough thatterrified me (an article in one of Dad’s journals said coughingcould break someone’s ribs). Today, you’re the... Continue Reading →

To ease my mind with craftI marked scratchy-soft linenwith blue chalk to center a monogram that’s stitching now on the embroidery machine(you can hear ithowlinglike a leaf blower) and I drew white X’s to reinforce the leather straps I’ll sewwith a roller foot anda size 90 needle onmy old Elna then, I examined my carefully... Continue Reading →

Those Kitchen ShearsAre on the counter—again—I’m starting to wonderif you might haveleft them to say,Cut out a place for mein your heartListen, you alreadyhave more than halfof that spaceas if you’ve kicked outdiagonallyfighting some dream(all six-foot-two of you)So you don’t need a way inand if insteadyou meant,Cut me out of herejust forget itno OXO tool... Continue Reading →