Hugh is 16 months now. He's a blur of movement, a chattering, singing, hollering fellow, and it feels like he's got one foot in babyhood and one in full blown kid-dom. Here's a handful of little things that really seem to capture the moment: Lately, we're hearing a lot of Hugh's suddenly clear-as-a-bell, almost incredulous, … Continue reading Hugh
Writing about motherhood often feels like a futile exercise. How on earth does one capture and organize the three dimensional whirlwind of active bodies, the deep emotional valleys, the adventures, the quiet, private moments? I have always loved the economy of poetry -- the freedom to omit context or narrative and zero in on one … Continue reading Poems & Motherhood
The Key to the House 