Author Archives: perfectsublimemasters

Turning the corner, I see a kid. He’s maybe seventeen, nineteen walking down the sidewalk carrying a bouquet. They could be for anyone, those flowers, but I want them to be for his mother. I want them waiting in a … Continue reading →

One night, my husband’s sitting on the edge of the bed, sobbing into his hands. Says he found Jesus. He’s going to be saved. A week later—he’s packed up and left. Goes to Wednesday night prayer meetings. Rest of his … Continue reading →

We knew it could happen—there was no way that messy house of twigs was safe up there in our eaves. The nest blew down, and the doves rebuilt using the sprigs and fluff now on the ground. Restored, they took … Continue reading →

I. Pink blossoms in a terra cotta pot, a real pot, red clay, with cracks and sweet crumbles, lovely imperfections holding these beauties. I don’t remember planting them. II. There she was: bright yellow bird, deep black wings sitting in … Continue reading →

She’s been saving morphine. “Euthanize,” she says, and stares till I nod yes. She is losing words like blanket and zipper and doesn’t always make sense, but when she calls to ask if I’m coming soon, I know what she … Continue reading →

Three days past Christmas, the hospital walls are still decorated with holiday cheer—snowflakes, reindeer, a wreath with a crumpled candy bar wrapper stuffed into the artificial evergreen. Torn magazines, empty cups, and old newspapers litter the tables. The TV is … Continue reading →

Last year’s resolutions are in the garage stuffed in a Mason jar. They send their regrets. What’s good for today might not be best in March, say, or August when the hot summer sun is beating down my resolve to … Continue reading →