I found altar flowers sitting at my doorstep this Sunday, wilting in the Florida August heat – their piety drained, sagging, heavy-blossomed red and peach-colored roses, tall purple somethings at mid-staff, smaller, brighter purple I don’t know whats fading – the weight of it all. I know my flowers about as well as my saints.… Continue reading

I wish I still worried I wish I still called and left rambling messages saying nothing, who even remembers what, except I love you And also, hi, it’s me, it’s about noon And you’d call back maybe eventually and say Why do you always say it’s you calling I know and I love you too…… Continue reading