Perhaps in life we bloom upon bloom in new ways like a revolving door or a winter that always returns.
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They will pat pat, dance dance on the soft white ground. They will tell stories with their bodies of who they are and where they come from.
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A dream and a letter to Gen Z, Millennials and everyone else
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Homecoming is 4 Months Old!This week marks four months that Homecoming has been on Substack! I am honored that you receive and read my essays.
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Spring in TennesseeSpring has arrived in Tennessee
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Why Do Some Things Fit and Others Never Do? My body always tells me what it needs and it never lies.
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The thing about the South is people talk to you for a while, tell you where they’re from and what they like to eat.
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Dry, Hair Whipping AirRoswell comes suddenly and is green-faced, black almond-shaped eyed, flying saucer, UFO territory.
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Where are our “Let’s Get Married” signs?
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The year of the skunk was a year I learned to tell what wasn’t mine to stay away and to allow in only what was good and true.
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The Water Had Light In ItI slid into the dark water, laid on my back and watched the stars. There were a lot, but also not that many.
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She’s a top. Spinning. Wobbling. Better turn her again or she might stop. And I know what that feels like. For home to be something one must achieve…
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