The thought that I should have some other life persists. And two dreams, very similar: someone […]
Mary Ann Samyn
For months, nothing need be written. Grief behaves how it wants. I take up embroidery. I […]
POETRY, OR ON STAYING PUT by Mary Ann Samyn
It’s easy to dote on a son; a man is another story. I stop in the garden alcove […]
That’s One Way to Think of It by Mary Ann ...
The fear of not being wanted. And the shame of that fear. Children’s voices through the open […]