ode to pearl

pearl. livestock guardian dog. a ridiculously cold monday night. january. darkness sets in early, as it does midwinter when spring feels like an idle promise from lying lover. for some reason, barking perhaps, our attention  is drawn to the pasture and we survey the situation in the field by colemanlanternlamplight. in shadow and flicker we see four goats, as we had left them moments before, and two more bodies, running in whiteghost through...

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room to grow.

last week, in this small, rural southern town i call home, i visited a store. a named-store but one i won’t name here. while shopping, a woman i know spoke to me. i taught her child, now grown, many years ago. there was talk of weather. updates on the adultchild. sharing about the new year. personal goals. food prices. then she says another of her children, also grown, just lost a job in our small town. mom didn’t elaborate, but...

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hatching.

The school secretary’s voice broke the drone of Mrs. Dixon’s fourth grade social studies lesson. “Please send Angelina to the office. Her father is here to pick her up.” I stopped Mrs. Dixon mid-monotone sentence as she resumed her lecture. I asked her if she knew why I was being checked out of school by my father, before lunch, on this rather ordinary, early-spring day, when I didn’t even have a doctor’s appointment. She didn’t...

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