Dear Fear, There are days that I don’t think about you at all. You hide yourself well often appearing when I least expect it. I see you in my baby girl’s smiling eyes I hear you in her coos I feel you in her embrace I smell you in her scent, as I hold her tightly while she tugs gently on my face Knowing that … Continue reading Writing Prompt: Dear Fear..
My grandmother’s hands have massaged tired limbs and weary hearts they have cleaned homes, swept floors, toiled grass roots in cemented lands laid bricks and mortar that paved the road to freedom. My grandmother’s hands have coddled bodega lotto dreams like her new born child they are lamb’s wool on the naked skin of future generations. My grandmother’s hands have clasped arctic tenement floors shielding 5 … Continue reading My Grandmother’s Hands