Sarah bit her lip, not out of pleasure but out of the need to steady herself so she did not dart for the door.
montreal writes
Marisol scrolls through the appointment list and marks the scheduled patients who have checked in.
Poem
The winds here are charged, tensed and pressing against the maple barks.
Poems
Poems
Poem
Poem
Poems
I’ll always remember when I was three and stepped up onto a new sidewalk that was too high for me, almost to my knees.
