Tag: South

• October 25, 2016

  The Language We Bury Them In

  for Hannah Hamilton You wrote of comfort, crawfish boils and Port Vincent – for your father and the South and all of the things I’ve ever loved or never knew about. I read more and I learned you: your voice, flat on a paper, but heaving from aches, jerking from anticipation, and then rising with…
• October 5, 2015

  Leaning into Autumn

  The cool mornings linger in the hollows, where the land dips and divides, waiting for the day to arrive— the South cannot shake the humid breath of sunlight. Originally published at Plum Tree Tavern – October 2015