Tag Archives: Hannah Trees

Baked

She is all wooden spoons and tapping toes, empty stomach, floured face. She finishes the tiredest cooking of the hungriest food, the sweeping up of all the settled dust; she cracks the stale and aging crust, breaks the body of … Continue reading

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Home Room

The kindergarten class visited the modern art museum. Now they all paint portraits without eyes or mouths, dipping their pudgy fingers into fleshy paint, smearing bodies across construction paper. They are learning the months, the days of the week, time … Continue reading

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