The Red Jeep

A Jeep has sat in front of our house for a month, its red boxy body catching my eye every time I walk outside.  Whoever left it, placed it equal distance...

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Cookies for Breakfast

I have learned life is short, and dying takes forever. For nearly seventy years, I’ve been a whirling dervish. I ran to and from various aspects of a life filled with perpetual...

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Hank

I am offended. It is not my fault that there is no bedroom door to close to keep the drywall sanding-dust out. No, not my fault, and to tell the truth...

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Integrative Ancestors, redux

When my daughter Sela was three, she invented a story about Bob Marley and Frederick Douglass. I put her allegory in the “Afterthoughts” of...

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What is a Plot?

Plot as a literary term is defined as the structure of events that make up the movements of a story through time; characters and settings are...

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Target Practice

My mother saw the raccoon first. She was chopping veggies in front of an open window, hoping for a breeze because it was August, and already hot and sticky...

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Shanghai Dumplings

I sat alone at the Shanghai Dumpling King on 34th Avenue in the same seat she always sat in.  I came on a Thursday afternoon the way she always did...

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Moshe

I am six years old and I go to Yeshiva and my name is Moshe. In summer there is an old woman who lives in the radiator in the living room of my apartment.

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Writing Contest: Migration, Place and Home

Submit your stories of migration and/or your sense of place, of home or lack of, and your empathy to the plight of migrants around the world.

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We grew up on fear and became heroes…

Fifty feet of nylon line and a milk jug stretched across the bay. Twenty hooks, mostly trebles, hung waiting; chicken liver and dough balls luring them in.

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A Drop Like Wet Shellac

To your villa they come-- the sketchbooks, the cameras, parade past your clay mugs and plates, black lace mantillas that covered your legs, white wooden bed...

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Recipe for Saying Goodbye

Prepare for cooking by crawling in bed with ill mother to hear the secrets of making her special cornbread. Talk about all the times you have shared her cornbread...

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Book Review: How to Change Your Mind

Michael Pollan’s latest book is: How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression and...

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What I Remember from 5th & San Pedro

The place I saw you. How you were walking, squinting, through the slowly-becoming-blinding dawn light. How you carried a large red and white tote bag.

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The Waves Still Whisper Lullabies

Out of a mall. I have a feeling that I forgot to take something. Something that Lynn crucially needs and I’ll have to visit the mall again. But no.

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To be in the Summer **CONTEST WINNER**

シェイクスピア閉じて夏を志す | I closed poems of Shakespeare | And I made up my mind | To be in the summer

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On the Same Bittersweet Day

On the same bittersweet day | I gave each a name | And loved each alike.| On the same bittersweet day, | I rocked a crib | And commissioned a grave.

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The Space Between

Staring up at a velvet black sky, we watch millions of stars spark and swirl. On a quilt, soft and worn with years of washing and dreaming, we speak of the fate of humanity...

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