All She Had

Wherever I go, I’m looking for words. As a kid, I used to flip past the “wild rumpus” pages in Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are: though gorgeously illustrated, they have no words. I had no patience for pictures. (Richard Scarry’s pages, on the other hand, studded with words as they are, I could…

First Love

“It was a flower,” writes Denise Levertov in the opening line of her poem “First Love.” She goes on to describe falling in love with a pink convolvulus at a tender age—“barely / old enough to ask and repeat its name.”  It looked at me, I looked  back, delight filled me as if I, not…

Becoming Who You Are

By Sarah Sanderson I’ve lived through a little more than four decades, and each has brought a tremendous amount of change. I began the 1980s as an infant, and ended them an adolescent. I entered the 1990s in middle school, and left a college graduate. In 2000, I received an engagement ring; by 2010, I…