Treehouse

I am building a treehouse of words at the end of the garden where no one can find it up high among branches and birds, tethered by feathers and covered with foliage, plastered with poems and rendered with rhyme; as part of the tree it will grow over time. I am building a treehouse of words […]

Fading Photographs

I have an ornate cardboard box, quite large, with lid and metal handle, stuffed to overflowing with tangible memories, crackling paper photographs. I treasure most the black and white that echo with my mother’s laugh, when her eyes were wide and bright, her skin was smooth and her hair was soft, when she could lift […]