Sand sisters

for Aimée Divisions had already been drawn before you were born —  our blood would be thick but we were pulled from different rivers, silt running down our thighs:   I remember the morning I held you, brushing distance from your brow and learning your name,  just as you would learn mine — stumbling over … Continue reading Sand sisters

I am June

The smell of summer mud drifts in from the Estuary,  invites itself into the village,  wearing flowers for a crown.   It proclaims June and beetles free themselves from my winter sleeves.  And the bees, living in the chimney, bow and buzz in the ecstasy of the mud’s arrival;   the tide singing along to … Continue reading I am June