The stillness of that year,captured in still frames,plucks at my veinslike the IV needle.We drive to the hospital,to empty waiting rooms,to masked facesand empty eyesto perdition,or so it seems.Still, that waiting room haunts me,awakening masked emotions.But time passes smoothlythrough the eyes of a needle,until the ghost of that year fades,wavering in my mind’s eye,and IContinue reading “Time’s Calm”
Navigating my writing adventures through teaching, motherhood, and cancer survivorship.
Words and Coffee Writing 