Tips for Drying Goldenrod

    Tips for Drying Goldenrod By Karen Guenther-Attea 1. Wake up, Pray 2. Clip your flowers midday after the dew has dried off. On a windy day, I suppose it doesn’t matter. 3. The boughs don’t need to be too tight, oh but that is too tight. Well, maybe it will be okay. 4….

The Sound of a Door Closing (Pt. I)

  Just yesterday, though it wasn’t the first time, a parent stopped me on my way out of the school to ask how I was doing.  Had it been the first time, I may have stopped and stayed there to give her a more sincere answer.  I probably wouldn’t have replied with only a curt…

earthquake

  I’m bad at this, I am, the whole asserting what I want, faulting to leave things intact though I know they are beginning to crumble. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll hear it. So I stay quiet, waiting. I’ve been told that earthquakes can be heard deep in the earth, it’s like a popping sound….

Braver Places (Memorial Day)

There are the times when someone makes a choice that lends to new places and responsibilities.  There is that persistent a sense of dread and excitement  that illicit itself all throughout the body, simultaneously.   Recently, I’ve been reserved to the idea of how change might work on my body, mind, and soul, but then…

Later Down the Road

Take the road Down to the end of the drive There’ll be an ivy-grown house where I know things keep slow   Where a kitchen settles for eggs and toast, And old news keeps the basement full,   Where the houseplants fill up the windowsills To watch the seasons change, singing mute songs   With…

The Joyhood of Change

Crumbled concrete lots became the playgrounds building tall towers of sticks and rocks my joyhood would be as I toppled these cities as uninhabited as the empty, sprawling suburbs as glee, maybe mania, overtook my spirits as if imitating the crains’ clearing was as if reclaiming something as memories too often demolished as those stories…

What I’ve always and only known: Fear and Attachment

From bus terminal to bus terminal, from gate to gate, maybe during a week of hiking or a week of navigating a new city, you carried hefty pieces of what seemed to be essential pieces of luggage. Tedious toil it was to lug around these pieces of what you came to refer as  (as) an…

distance never seperates

“When chance awakens love, everything takes its place in a man in obedience to that love, and love brings him a sense of distance…” -Antoine de Saint-Exupéry “Flight to Arras”   This was the first sentence upon opening my book today. Might I add that it adds a greater understanding to what I feel, and…