Vanishing Point
Vanishing Point Wind kicks sand, a mist of saltwater layers my skin.I am on Hatteras island, the Atlantic on one side, Pamlico sound on the other. My feet unsteady as waves roll in, shift ground beneath me.I walk and walk, stop to gather a few intact shells, ocher and cream, maroon and gray,what were once …
Homewood Cemetery
My husband and I walk its paths at dusk in the lessening light when heat and humidity ease. There is much life among these graves— deer browse, wild turkeys run and flirt, groundhogs and chipmunks hide in shadows. Red-winged blackbirds flash across the pond, land on reeds that surround it. Water lilies bloom, a thick …