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My Desperate Zoo
Mothers run a desperate zoo. That’s why we plant flowers. I have a flat and a half of red, fuschia, and orange impatiens on my back porch waiting to dot the ground with their hues. My mom planted flowers, her mom planted flowers, and that’s how she died, weeding her Touch-Me-Nots. Grounds beautification 101, we… Read more
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Ancient Days
“In those days, in those distant days, in those ancient nights stories were told before there were things to tell stories about, Mom,” Sugar said over her shoulder as she walked out the door and slammed it. “I’m sick of your stories, you tell stories like all the damn time like I’m supposed to learn… Read more
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Free Falling
Falling no end in sightfrom heaven?to heaven?to Earth?to ocean?Where do we go when we drift across the skysomeone tell mesomeone sayI don’t want to be afraid to fallmaybe in love. Read more
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Broken Promises
Don’t know when I’ve been so very let downMy lips pressed tight right into a grimaceShould have known, didn’t want to show the frownFrustrated shake of the head, a red face.Tears, a bitter smile, a heavier sigh, I should have known better than to trust youSag against the wall, attempting to hideHands that hang, lifeless,… Read more
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Mom’s Road Trip, Revisted
Mom lost her mind and married Roebuck. None of the kids could stand him, but she was entitled to her midlife crisis, same as anyone else. Since his house burned down on their first date, something about gunpowder gun cleaning equipment and an explosion, such a catastrophe, that they moved to Texas soon after they…
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Lotsa Dollar Surprise
I left the windows on the car open when it got hot in the summer. Mom and Dad always did, so I figured I better too. The car was so hot a dog would have died if I’d have left it in there, a kid would have too, open windows or not. Our parents left…
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On Writing…
If you’re doing your best writing, you’re always on the cusp of embarrassing yourself.” –Arthur Miller I’ve been tasked to write my Author’s Mission Statement. It’s in the brainstorming and drafting stages at this point. I’ve stolen phrases from other writers I know. I’ve stuck fancy words in it and wrangled them around to make…
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My School Family and Friends
It must be the year thirty-eight, thirty-nine, or it could be forty of my teaching career.. I felt good when I walked onto campus this year until I found out my friend, the head cook, wouldn’t, couldn’t be back to work. She has terminal cancer. She seemed fine at the pool this summer. She did…
Devonne Brown 