Day NineAwoken with a start from restless sleep on my mother’s sofa, I grope not for my watch or the battery-operated alarm clock. I do not reach…Aug 20, 2021Aug 20, 2021
Plane’s arc, a definition since childhoodI sit by the airplane window staring into a pool of shifting darkness. My mother sleeps but not soundly. The plane passes through a bank of…Mar 14, 2017Mar 14, 2017
Haunted by history, hungry for homeMy Ukrainian father lost his home and country to war, my English mother sacrificed hers for marriage…Mar 14, 2017Mar 14, 2017
Death keeps you busyI climb the stairs and duck under the canopy shielded entrance to Miller Funeral Home. The plum colored tarp bends and twists from the…Mar 14, 2017Mar 14, 2017
Once a refuge, now a hauntingOriginally published at www.annasochocky.com on December 28, 2016.Dec 28, 2016Dec 28, 2016
Mississippi stigmataOriginally published at www.annasochocky.com on November 18, 2016.Nov 18, 2016Nov 18, 2016