I thought I had Father David Link all figured out. I spent three years of my life immersing myself in his life story and then writing a book about him.…
Author: <span>Maura</span>
Waves slapping the quay as if enraged by the monotony of their monochromatic grays explode, frothy and frenzied, rabid lips curled in disdain for my insignificant witness or for the…
I wake and smile. You have come to me, but sweetly. It has been forever. Months since I dreamed of you-not-displeased. Where have you been? How is life? I…
I stirred The word “plank” skittered from my mind as if unleashed, as if it were inside a speech balloon. I watched it float away and, still half-asleep,…
Lil’ Punkinhead Hey, little baby, what’s on your mind besides a leafy, smiling pumpkin? Are you fretting over your first kiss the Who and When and Where of it all?…
On 4 March 2007 at Community Church in Amherst, Ohio, John Randall delivered an eloquent speech he had spent weeks editing and perfecting. Entitled “The Perfect Storm,” John talked about…
At 7:26 p.m. one Monday in January 1987, my obstetrician placed my newborn daughter in my arms. Eager to see this little person who hiccupped every night from 11:00 to…
Late one night in September 1982, just before the birth of my second child, I sat down to write a poem that would be the baby’s birth announcement. In my…