Author Archives: heidi

I couldn’t know he was/we were going to be a certain gift, broken love, friendship forever. One summer dusk, tattered denim cuffs hanging off the curb, me watching as B, straight blond hair hung over grey eyes, taught himself to … Continue reading →

It is what I would write when you’re not looking that I need to say, pressing through the still night air, not whispers or wisps, but transparent shadows, their voices the barely-wind, hawk’s call, promise, long low breath of flute … Continue reading →

I don’t even know why I’m crying except that I have to because something hurts so very much, something with a name that I cannot reach. I just turned off the porch lights so the neighbors might not see me … Continue reading →

  I smell everything cookies rising in the oven. Cinnamon, raisin, walnut, chocolate chip. I made them and I didn’t. Measure, dump, mix, pour, shape, heat, cool at a prompting beep. Not till, water, weed, witness, pluck at perfection. My … Continue reading →

we have kansas sun before dusk lighting our westward trail, a case of water, racing winds calling through open windows this is what you prayed for easy laughter, food in a purple plastic box, booster packs of gaming cards, a … Continue reading →

All I’ve got is this deep down whine, started right after I thought, for a brief moment, I was first up, about to enjoy time alone in the morning, just as I heard the sighing stretches, creaking boards, soft good … Continue reading →

Some kinda everything has been building for days, creeping in the quiet, staring back at me from empty corners, cluttered walkways, confused strangers, sunshine hot, thick-damp, a musty cabin, too short shorts in the frozen food aisle, makeup caked on … Continue reading →

We require very little really; clean water, good food, a place to hide from the elements, regular physical, loving contact with other human beings, a time each day to get so quiet we can hear our own mind and then … Continue reading →

I like a sun that slips onto night like a cloak, reminds one of nothing as it gathers momentum covers a giant slice of sky with fresh brilliance, light-bathed blue, a canvas of new day. I close my eyes into … Continue reading →

Maybe we just need to say nothing for a while, as the new day rolls out in bright strips. I’m squinting into the sunrise, not sure how long it’s gonna take, the rewiring, letting go of repeatedly rotating within my … Continue reading →