…every time Scott writes about our kids.
I call her name. No reply. Louder. Nothing. The dragon’s got her but
good and who can blame her? Can I really compete with such a wingéd,
scaléd green beast?
I try again and this time she looks up. I make the sign for “car,” and she beams, hops down off the couch.
The earth’s rotation wavers slightly from the sheer beauty of her in motion.
Joan Angela Blewitt Peterson
BE VAR VAR QIYT
Now I Really Have Seen the Sweetest Thing Ever
Sometimes It Rains
Six Tall Years