The Hyphenate

  I’ve just realized that I am a hyphenate.  I don’t have merely one passion.  I am myriad. You hear about these women.  Mostly on blogs.  You know that behind the camera has to be chaos.  Somewhere there must be chaos, because no one can do it all and have a clean house. My insatiable…


I feel her on the wind, the moist air caressing my face. It smells of burnt summer. Home. She breathes green, Her ocean laps at your ankles, bowls you over, settles you on majestic views. You eat her fruit, drink her stream. Your blood flows with her.