Monday, March 30, 2009


Diamonds of snow glitter on the cheeks of my daughter and when she smiles I wonder if she could shine any brighter

Wind whistles in my ears and I hear voices from far away in that wind. Telling me that it is good, that this is my home

Inside she is mixing herbs with her tiny fingers. Licorice root, dandelion, angelica.... She is excited because the ginger, she says, smells like lemonade. This is going to make you better, Mom, she says with roses in her cheeks and I smile. This will make you better because I made it.

Wind whistles in my ears and I hear voices from far away in the wind. Telling me that this is good, that this is my home.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Sunday, March 22, 2009