Hand to Heart

“the truth is my hope is mangled. it limps and creaks at night. you speak of hope like a white bird soaring. it’s okay that mine is the battered exhale, a bench with splintered wood.” — Cole Arthur Riley

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Yes, You Are Beautiful

Standing at my sink mid-day in the soft sun, I tend to the bowls and pans used to make banana bread. The oven heats the sugar, flour, eggs, yogurt, and slivers of banana nestled within its crumb. An aroma like a holiday morning at grandma’s lingers in the air. I choose Christy Nockel’s “Be Held”…

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