Is there some kind of revelatory, existential euphoria six taco-dip-layers deep within morning-routine chaos for parents of young children? Maybe. If not, there’s at least some comedy. A mother of a four-year-old with one on the way reflects on a salient vocal command involving a hoagie and her artwork.

What defines the perfect weekend-morning outing anyhow? Maybe there’s more beauty in nimbleness than the delay of muddy shoes. A mother explores resiliency while on an adventure along a bayshore coastline surrounded by tidal ponds and flora and fauna that’s learned to thrive in brackish water.

An essay about roses adrift on the ocean and their unexpected fate in the hands of a stranger mother.

Lately I’ve been after an ordinary life. Dinner at In-N-Out (as ordinary as a burger nestled within twin leaves of romaine instead of a bun can be). 

Poems in Aurora Poetry Anthology