A piece about emerging from a time of hibernation — This bass reminds me of a shape I once took and this guitar of that time I believed you were magic. …

You said I must be a witch but It was you, running your warm hands across my sternum, pressing my small wrists between your thumbs, that put a spell on me. I thought you were a good decision. Instead of guitar strings, your fingers pressed computer keys; eyes scanning black and white…

An Ode to One of My Favorite Detroit Spaces — Deep emerald leather and dark wood wainscoting suggest luxuries beyond my east side expectations American Spirit smoke floats by along with heady words mapping potential playmates and career daydreams In a space we were once barred from entering, We laugh. We laugh the grand belly howls of the liberated. …

On an innocuous Tuesday morning, With icy winter rain tapping at my window Driving my daughter to school Sza’s soulful words rolling through my Buick The loneliness pounces Creeps through my rib cage like English Ivy And threatens my heart with its violent tendrils The ivy is like quicksand dragging…

I’ve never been much of a royal watcher, but I find myself super interested in watching Harry verbalize his experience within the royal family. …

My journey to my own tool belt — The year I got divorced, I purchased a small home that I could afford on my own. I had owned homes with my husband over the previous ten years, but our division of labor was pretty traditional during that time. I cooked and did most of the laundry and cleaning…

I once watched a horror show in which people got trapped in memories causing their present selves to become catatonic. They called it being “tucked away” and no term ever made more sense to me. Sometimes I walk into a place and before I can gather a defense, my breath…

A map for a new generation — “The kids are not alright!” Or, are they? Maybe they are better than ever. Maybe we should follow their lead. Even before the pandemic, my classroom was riddled with students struggling with anxiety. They dragged themselves through the door of school and into my English classroom with resignation. …

A bucket list trip that was worth the work — “You made it, Tara! I didn’t see you before, but I see you now. Can I give you a hug?” Lorena’s dark eyes peered into my soul. I fell into her embrace and released the sobs I had been stifling. Feeling a bit embarrassed by my emotion, I stepped away…