Maine Moments Granite rocks, crashing waves tide pools and sweeps of sand craggy Maine landscapes concealed in frequent fog Crouched on the dock, flashlight spots millions of just-born lobsters smaller than a fingernail, phosphorus green seeking cover, building shells...
3 am or 4 am, I often wake up, wide awake, and there’s no use trying to get back to sleep. The memories press me hard and the bed is empty of any but me, and too big. Sometimes, in these hours, I wake up and write. Sometimes what I write isn’t even sad....
Grey day, Perhaps rain, perhaps snow. My inner landscape matches my outer landscape perfectly. Confusing, right, Days like these, depression comes easy. And my husband’s drugs in the fridge and closet call loudly to me. I do not succumb. But I want to,...
