seashore prayer
Who are you? How is it you live within me and I within you, and still I am flummoxed by you? My heart’s cry is… Read More »seashore prayer
Who are you? How is it you live within me and I within you, and still I am flummoxed by you? My heart’s cry is… Read More »seashore prayer
This is depression: walking the dog down beautiful paths where delight once thrummed through your veins, but feeling an ache in your throat instead. The… Read More »after the slog
In the dream, Bigfoot is skulking through a cave, and the Woman is trying to stop him from getting out. She is old and clever… Read More »Bigfoot and the Woman
Today the sky is an apt metaphor. There is plenty of light to see, but clouds have covered over the blue. I look up and… Read More »clouds and wind
In honor of Martin Luther King Jr., here is a letter I wrote to myself in the fall. _________ 22 October 2015 dear Hannah, Please remember… Read More »life is a spell so exquisite, everything conspires to break it.
I woke very early and eased my body out of bed. The attic floorboards creaked beneath my careful feet. David slept soundly in the imperfect silence. The darkness of morning usually… Read More »candle or no candle
Let me tell you how Gus the cat died. I promise later I will tell you how he lived. Our fifteen-year-old cat had been losing… Read More »a good death
I am standing in the doorway when I read Tony Hoagland’s poem. David and our niece and nephew are playing with toy cars and trucks and planes,… Read More »thank you, Tony Hoagland
The day I heard of Kim’s passing, I rode my bike to the beach and let the wind chill the tears on my cheeks. The… Read More »the kindness of Kim
Here’s the guest post I wrote for my friend Catherine’s blog: some of the gifts of this challenging year in Wichita. http://catherineannehawkins.com/hannahs-in-between-guest-post/ Special thanks to… Read More »after the burning
The luminous Catherine Hawkins was one of my husband David’s childhood friends. Catherine and I became close in the spring of 2012, when I sweet-talked… Read More »my hands are dying
Vespa came to me in my dreams last night, wanting a walk. She wagged her tail and moaned her emphatic morning song, and off we… Read More »walk, linger, love
The paperwhites are in full bloom the morning I learn that Grandma has died. Before I turn on my phone and see the message, I… Read More »from bulb to blossom
The roads were icy Sunday morning. The car fishtailed a few times on the drive to church, so I developed a gentle rhythm. First gear… Read More »life, death, and faulty brake calipers
Two weeks ago I rode against the wind to teach my second yoga class at Truesdell Middle School. News flash, Toto: sometimes in Kansas, the… Read More »not yet
I haven’t skinned my knee in years, so when I stumbled over the extra-high curb at Mark and Cheryl’s three weeks ago, I knew it… Read More »skinned knees, fresh cantaloupe, Basic Principles
Tuesday morning I found a dead field mouse. It was in the shed where I keep my bike. My breath caught on the sharp edge… Read More »something to bury