Tag Archives: Katherine Fallon

We all in turn caught on to the Darth Vader click-and-exhale of the oxygen concentrator, which went from rolling suitcase to missile-sized the night you refused treatment and sunk truly into hospice. Leah was the last of us to understand … Continue reading →

Every day, I drive past the hotel where I stayed when I left my wife and came here to look for housing with you. Last month, a man was shot and killed there but no one is afraid because it … Continue reading →

After viewing Gretchen Rockwell’s photograph, “The Sound of Wings” Wildest of the city-dwellers, street doves beg at the heels of humans for seed, stale bread, sparkling, unlicked wrappers. They bum-rush refuse and stay put so long as the tossing arm … Continue reading →

Seventeen years ago, you were two weeks late and I was tired of carrying you. Your father, brother didn’t mind so much. I wished for you in the same way I wished for a big, empty house: relief from the … Continue reading →

For Marie Howe [This is the on-ramp to my poem, Marie, and were you to get your hands on it, you’d wipe it away like fog on glass, and you’d be right to:] The day I met you downtown instead … Continue reading →