Strands of soft wind
pull back the corners of your mouth,
a small pink clamshell opening.
Daddy and I tell you good morning,
and raise you up
high into the golden air.
You laugh and I swear the mountains tumble.
Speaking of Smile, child
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Poem: Nursery Rhyme
Jul 1, 2014 -
An Untitled Poem
May 1, 2014 -
A Poem: Untitled
Mar 1, 2012 - More »
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Hands & Earth: Perspectives on Japanese Contemporary Ceramics
Oct. 20-Jan. 24, 10 a.m.-5 p.m. — Organized by the Lowe Art Museum from the collection of Carol and...
OBLONG ONLINE: Amber Ruffin & Lacey Lamar, "You'll Never Believe What Happened to Lacey: Crazy Stories About Racism"
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