Reviewed by Dave Seter Childhood can be a time of intense joy and disappointment. An old idiom counsels: children should be seen and not
Who can blame them? For calling like banshees after years underground, making public the very private act of living? Their amber, alien husks
It does not equal a ¼ cup, a soft boil, a bird in a hand. If one of the two bluebirds we saw flee
When I was inside my mother her body was still reeling with the blood of war—her blood now the table from which I fed,