Gone
Two months after, she realized that she could not envision his eyes — smoky brown, heavily lashed — searching for her.
Seaworthy
We sailed out further than I ever imagined and turned to look back, gauge the distance, watch the changing sky.
The more the merrier
The day we gathered to remember you, fires rampaged across our state as the diablo winds whipped October and stories circled like whirling leaves
At 60
I am no longer all bones and angles. My sharp points have been sanded smooth, gently curved into a softer version of my former self.