Plymouth & Brockton

I sit on the bus Crammed into my seat with my backpack on the floor between my knees. My teenage son, close beside me, falls asleep on my shoulder. The rush hour traffic slows our progress as the night pulls us further away. I feel like we are runaways, only not, as we are heading toward the chaos I most wish to avoid. Each mile brings us nearer to the family we love Captured in Read More …

A Letter to My Son at Camp

Each night as I clean up from dinner I put away the serving which would have been yours. These few weeks  while long enough       for me to miss you and our night time talks      and the afternoons we carve out time to share popcorn and a movie, while long enough for the recycling bin to fill several times over      and for the dog to give up waiting for your Read More …