Tell me this: when did you come into being, and when did your voice disguise itself as His, seducing me…
To My Students: You Are a Poem
Seven years. It’s been seven years since I crossed the threshold into that classroom, feeling like a little girl slipping…
Illogical Grace
I broke last week. I broke under a burden of my own creation, a weighty mass of human striving and…
Meeting Dostoevsky
Every time I open that last book of his, he tells me that before I go any further, I must…
Hope Unyielding 