When my father sold the family home after her death I found the rusty trowel in the garage, duga few from the front yard and dropped them into a plastic bag. We lived on Willow Drive back then and when I openly wished for a willow tree for the front yard I only heard...
This is a poem I wrote to my mother. I have had no contact with her for 3 years. As I have been grieving the loss of my childhood and coming to the realization that I never really had a “mother”, poetry has been one way for me to express my grief. Before coming to...
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