Source Material
June 1, 2020Essay by Steve Henn
Perhaps the fact of her mother’s death was real to her, as real as it could get, whether or not she ever saw the body.
Perhaps the fact of her mother’s death was real to her, as real as it could get, whether or not she ever saw the body.
My rights are less pertinent these days, and I’m learning restraint too late.
My own porch looked unlived-in, a stage for a performance that had yet to happen.
The ancients believed those who witness these colors would live forever.
I believe I will continue to change in ways I can’t prevent.
The stranger approached, opened fire into prayers.
Not one creature gazes out toward me, solitary observer.