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Relaxation Prison
One could call my home a relaxation prison. I don’t go anywhere or do anything of consequence to anyone but me. I plant and water flowers and watch them flourish along forest paths. I write in solitude. I prepare and eat my meals in solitude. I do everything alone. My warden, Norris, demands his cream.… Read more
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In the Midnight Hour
In the midnight hour, when no one else is around or listening, the story I tell myself is that I didn’t fall off the turnip train yesterday. That the voice of Linda Ronstadt still rings true in my heart and head. I’m still the woman I was forty years ago even though I have silver… Read more
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Long ago
I’m still not used to the Fourth of July without the indignity of the sumptuous feasts my mother concocted on her birthday. They had everything but bursting fireworks against the black sky. They weren’t necessary for her celebrations. Everyone was too tired for them by dark anyway. The family would have had to replenish its… Read more
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Lasagne Night
“Do you remember when we had dinner in that old house in the woods on the farm?” Ruby asked as she took the pan of lasagne out of the oven. Alan smiled. “Yeah, you wore your prom dress and I wore my sport coat. Mom made lasagne for us. We took it to that little… Read more
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School’s Out for Summer
Image generated with AI Being home in my forest among my flowers allows me to be me. The old people said “tending violets cures melancholy.” There’s something about digging in dirt to plant my begonias and impatiens that does the same thing. It restores my soul from working all fall and winter. Every morning of… Read more
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Zoom Nap
The writing prompt was something about standing in line at Walmart when your eyes saw your sibling/twin’s face for the first time. That’s what my memory was left with. I know the prompt was about a line and a long lost sibling. I decided to go with the twin theme. I always go with twin…
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Putting it off…
Putting it off… Once, I was a fashion plate. I dressed in incredible clothes that I designed and made myself. I’d stay up into the wee hours sewing complicated patterns with facings, buttons, zippers, lots of handwork, and they were amazing. Designer clothes. Beautiful work. When I got pregnant with twins, that shit stopped cold…
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That Time My Hair
I never had a problem with my hair, but Mom was always messing with it. She never let me grow it long because “I couldn’t take care of it.” Truth was, she didn’t want to take care of it and said I was too lazy and inept to handle it, qualities I’ve fought off my…
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Not the Same
IT’S DIFFERENT written by: Devonne Brown published by SpillWords, January 19, 2023 @athesaurus1 The quiet is different this morning.Its timbre has a breadth, a substanceI hadn’t noticed before.The quiet when the boys slept was full of their dreamsThis emptiness is hard. It supersedes noisefrom the TVthat deafens the background silence.It shatters then evaporates like it…
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Waning Xmas
This Week The end of Christmas, the end of the semester, parent conferences, the end of winter break. Parents signed up to be able to tell the teacher how cool their kids were. Endless talk about their kids. They didn’t care about behavior or academics. They wanted to tell us, their teachers, all about their…
Devonne Brown 