Richard’s Mummy

Richard isn’t at school today. He wasn’t there yesterday, either. When I get home, my mother seems sad. She crouches, looking into my eyes with hers. “Richard’s Mummy is – “ My mother has tears now. I don’t ask her why, I wait. I feel uncomfortable. “Richard hasn’t got a Read more

Thunder

Rolls like a kettle-drumon the other side of the passwhere my lover once livedin a plain wooden houseunder a sky that carried weightin its splendor and its solace We saved hours underneaththe dogwood tree, silentholding hands, lightly old-fashionedlovers bent on listening asthe yellow-billed cuckoo sangsadder than the rain Everything I Read more