slowly the land regains its colorup on the hillside three deermove cautiously driven by hungertwo of them still wobbly on thelong legs
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My husband, my 4-year old, myself, my 11-month old… all of us on a double size bed. It’s a warm summer night,
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If there is poetry in my book about the sea, it is not because I deliberately put it there, but because no
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This post will be a little bit different. A little more personal too. Despite all the social media and blog posts, I
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It’s just he and I during the night hours. He sleeps beside me, either curled into the crevice of my arm or
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