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Writer’s Choice

When You Write My Eulogy

Don’t mention my divorce or deferred adolescence but apologize
for the times I was a lousy parent.

Barbed Wilderness

He’s tired of feeling like a criminal. He’s tired of being in a country that needed him, needed his people, but didn’t want their kind.

Immigrant

I am | the Other Side of the story, the face | from a picture book | whose title | you cannot | pronounce: | In another life | I forged with you across continents,

Dispersal Lessons

Animals move—it’s our birthright, a gift from ancient ancestors in the form of genes that could eventually code for leg or wing or fin.

A Roadmap of Scars

I do know that slowly, my own heart healed as patients and families invited me into the special intimacy of illness.

Rest in Peace

The roots of a dysfunctional family are deeper than unhealthy thinking; they are steel wire cords.

Will I Forget Your Face?

You were special, hard… but so are gems. You were a shard of glass embedded under my skin.

Prairie Heartbeats

A decade and two years of prairie farming. His hands touching her limp silhouette; Laid in the comfort of her bed.