Peaches (Home Poems)

The other day my mom sent me a photo of a basket of peaches. I want to be that basket of peaches. I want to be the prickly, sweet way that they smell. I want to be the juice that seeps through the corners of the dry, crinkle sound of the paper bag that first housed...

My Tana Kitchen (Home Poems)

One of the most exciting and enjoyable aspects of the Families in Global Transition Conference this past weekend was the way in which personal narrative – both written and spoken – was taken as an essential part of processing the expat experience. I’ve written about...

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