#FF — Once Mrs. Cleaver

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Mom was a Mrs. Cleaver parent until I was five, making time to show me I was loved. But mom’s priorities changed to going out and sleeping in late. By my teens, we were mutually antagonistic strangers. When she drank and I mouthed off, she ripped my hair out, slapped…

dVerse — Poetics — Carnivale

Curled in her warm arms, rocking as James Darren* sings on the radio. At bedtime, she tells me stories of faeries and ogres while rubbing my aching legs. I’m dropped at another stranger’s tent. Ignored, uneasy sleep in an empty corner until her midnight voice returns, slurs, “Let’s go.” Dad will never know. Carnies’ front…

Actions Related to Indian Boarding Schools — Turtle Talk

Yesterday’s National Day of Remembrance for U.S. Indian Boarding Schools came with two developments. Sen. Elizabeth Warren, Rep. Sharice Davids, and Rep. Tom Cole reintroduced a bipartisan bill to establish a Truth and Healing Commission on Indian Boarding School Policies. The bill text is available here. In addition, Interior issued a press release announcing that […]…

dVerse — Quadrille 134 — Get on Board

Oh baby girl how I heart you,a timelessness transporter to grace divine. Wrinkles disappear, gravity lightens with your toothless smile. Pitted stone weeps, chest’s choke cranked, chugging on the joy line. Your coo delivers cool healing to all passengers.We’re at our destination.   NOTE:  The top image is not my granddaughter.   Image link here. De…

TSM 170 — Babydoll

Back then she was called Babydoll,a spark from mommy’s fever dream;their heaped station wagon zig-zaggedto try-outs with soulless faces. P(r)imped in ringlets and pink ruffles,back then she was called Babydoll.She batted her eyes; dimpled herway onto marquees nation-wide. Sedatived for conveniencethat by teenhood became habit.Back then she was called Babydoll.The offers changed, the lights now…

#FF — Goodbye, Mama

PHOTO PROMPT© Na’ama Yehuda תודה חברה שלי Abandoning Michigan winters and my family had been necessary. I’d lived in Hawaii for thirty years when Dotty, my youngest sister, called and said Mama didn’t have long. I packed my peach fleece-lined jacket. They hovered around her, their faces uncharacteristically crumpled and wet. Dotty moved aside, said,…