September 17, 2024
Ignore my calls to stay hidden. Drag me out from behind this cobweb-scribbled door. I'll pretend to be surprised when you scream in elation, when you hold your trophy close to your heart. Find me.
October 12, 2023
The first time I went to a convocation, I felt I could die of joy. My hummingbird heart, an anxious pet, sang a dawn song. It wasn’t the entrance hymn, “O For A Thousand Tongues To Sing.” It wasn’t the chancellor in his indigo-velvet cap and doily collar, although his literal orb and scepter made me weak and strong. It wasn’t the presence of so much earnestness, furnish me though it did with purpose and pleasure.
August 27, 2023
You sit there in your room, that shrunken world, surrounded by trinkets; an attempt to anchor the tides of your ebbing memory. I have been told that you dislike visitors but I have come nevertheless, before I lose my nerve.
April 21, 2022
When she runs errands or goes to work, people see a relatively put-together woman– a functional adult who smiles, observes most of the rules of society, and is often ready with a joke. Do you want to know a secret? Her happy-go-lucky air and easy smile? That’s a mask.