words from the soul
I am 15 and a half years old. My mother is sitting shiva for her father. I am leaving home and it feels like something is tearing. I don't know that I will no longer have a home, that they will move to a new house while I am hiding in the attic at my … Continue reading Ready or Not, We Move On
The hills are green this time of year, beautiful shades of green. Pale pink blossoms are exploding on the branches of the almond trees that dot the mountains. The grass is lush and full. There is mud from the wonderful rain that fell. The red poppies have just bloomed. You can see them from our … Continue reading Three Yellow Tractors
Colloquially Speaking 