Right Here

blades of green bend low and breathe in damp, the misted seaside glows, fog yellow gray among planked houses, sunlight slants across the field, racing tree shadows tumbling down and softly yield those dry spots are deer footprints strong and hesitant tenderly picking...

Artist Homes

First draft of a poem I’m working on. I noticed that I was deeply in love with the words “epoxy resin” and also my husband’s decision to become a full-time artist now too, and this poem showed up as a result… Artist Homes she kneels at...