I’m giddy to let you know that my lyric essay memoir, ‘Til I Am, was chosen as a finalist for the Autumn House Press full-length book prize for the 2nd year in a row. Maybe the second time is the charm? Cross your fingers, cast your spells, say your prayers.
Home would feel like home, though
I have no home
wherever it was
I am homeless. This is my condition
if there was a you and me in it.
Do you remember the first time you saw the moon during the day? I don’t, but every time I notice it hovering half or full in a blue sky, I am startled in the same way I must have been then.
What are you doing there? I want to say to the afternoon moon. It’s not your time yet.
Look! I’ll shout instead if I am with my children, and point up and over to where a partial moon may have been mistaken for a cloud.
How? the youngest one will reply. How can that be?
I don’t know, I tell her. And this is enough.
I am surprised that it is enough.