Sister

Photography by Summer Murdock

“Leave the kids with Dad. You’ll be more fun without them.”

I just don’t get it. Have you been letting the Beyoncés of the world get to you? You, once on wisdom’s path, now believing pride is power is a person’s worth. The pedestal trap. Read More

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Confectionary Confession

Painting by Wayne Thiebaud


I’m eating leftover birthday cake from last weekend, cutting each slice thinner and thinner, hoping to savor the layers of buttercream godsend from the town bakery. I’m grateful my husband gave up sweets for Lent and that my daughters forgot all about the festivities and the giant box in the fridge. A secret delectable all for me and the one in the womb:)

2018, Amaya Engleking 

Supernatural Birth

Art by Stepha Lawson

My midwife gave me a visualization assignment that I normally wouldn’t take too seriously, not prescribing to the “law” of attraction but rather more to the principles of prayer and surrender. But after just having read Baby Catcher by Peggy Vincent, I’m interested to try this as an exercise to funnel good thoughts and intentions into a desired outcome. If I am a co-creator, after all…  Read More

Ignite

Amaya, 2007

You who have lived many layers of lifetimes overlying just one body. The serious kid who took pride in her father — and her mother, for granted. The college girl with once a head of “dreamy blonde” highlights who spent her restaurant paycheck on $220 Versace sunglasses, a tank of gas, and a bottle of Bordeaux. The fervent penitent who sought God within church walls… Read More

Portrait of a February Morning


I stepped outside onto the back porch to let the dog out first thing and a rush of vitality filled me as the cedar smoke of our neighbors’ chimney and the cold wet in the air stung my bare face. The mountains to the south were already enshrouded in heavy cloud and a few snow flurries met the wafts of smoke-drift. Winter! I need it. What a revival from the malaise of warm, dry January, sickly like overripe fruit in a moist and sealed container. Defying the seasons and the natural order of life cycles like the technological revolution.  Read More

Waxen

Photography by Charlotte Colbert

All is white these days, the humidifier noise through the night and late January skies, but I’d give my life not to remain a blank slate mirror anymore. Smooth, slippery cold marble surface, not even the Kronos Quartet playing Philip Glass to the much prayed-for snowfall, not even the kids’ laughs or cries, not even my husband saying poetry doesn’t matter can penetrate, or stick, or stain. Albedo one hundred percent. Read More

Sliding Scale


Mentality shaky like an ancient mountain on a fault line slipping into the sea and the mountains don’t even speak to me anymore long neglectful of the dust that comprises their mass even when the shadows spill glorious on their umber cliff sides in low winter sun i am laid numb by the trisomy 13 and too premature and still-
births of strangers
sisters Read More

Walk On Water

Painting by KJ Burk

Swept dust and powder
Crumbling asbestos ceiling tiles
Itchy eyes and dried-up skin
Radon and foundation sealant in the crawl space
Paint to cover the mold
Paint to cover what little I have
Head games by reproaching blood(y)
Relations (or my head?) Read More

Vistas

My youngest on the November hike. Photography by Amaya Engleking

As I sat on the holiday parade float with the choral group and sang “Angels From the Realms of Glory” my own little three year old curly blonde angel, who had been tossing out candy, decided she couldn’t hold in her pee a moment longer. So there we were: me holding her off the side of the moving vehicle as she relieved herself onto the street. Nothing like a good mooning from a lit-up, garlanded caroling parade float that says, “Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!” Read More