church

Easter treat

Confession: I never saw much point in jellybeans. The only ones I ever truly liked were the Buttered Popcorn variety from Jelly Belly. But their chief virtue lay in how much they tasted like something else. Sigh. Still, when I found a poem* justifying their existence, I decided to share it with my Sunday school

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Red

Confession: You already know this about me–sometimes I write about caterpillars when I can’t write about cataclysm. My grandfather is dying today (my only grandpa, pillar around which my earliest memories twine), and my sister is in the ER for the third time in a week (my only sister, oh my sister). I hold this

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