Author Archives: elisabethwithaness

About elisabethwithaness

Writing out loud at Apropos of Nothing

The Wonky Tree of Possibility

They say that we are primed to notice what’s wrong, to anticipate danger, and to remember bad things and disasters. Life as a new stepmom is full of hard moments. I could fill pages with stories of rejection and misunderstanding and … Continue reading

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All the Dresses

A huge attic with dresses and dresses and more dresses, all free for the taking, provided, only and simply, that they fit and I like them. So I try them. Dresses I thought wouldn’t look good, do, and dresses I … Continue reading

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The cat is my witness

Dear My Love’s 11-year-old Daughter, You came to be with us for a week last night. You seemed happy, excited even, when you arrived, and I sensed you to be more comfortable and yourself around me. After supper –pizza!– your … Continue reading

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Smooth back my hair, I want to stay soft.

We took the canoe out on the pond last night. I had gotten off the bus just before Rosewood so I could walk down Belknap, our cross-fingers soon-to-be street. When I got to the pond, you were there already, as were several people on … Continue reading

Posted in Awareness, Family, Open Letter | 1 Comment

Wasn’t made for these times?

My love, You asked for unfiltered… Here, the things I couldn’t say last night: I feel bitter. I feel brittle. Resentful. Jealous. Paranoid. Probably I feel afraid, but it’s harder to get to that base layer of afraid. Bitter, on … Continue reading

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On this harvest moon.

You stopped by, asking for me, and I wasn’t here. You and May. Last night. Saffron told me. And tonight I could cry and cry. You must be tired of hearing me go on and on about family. What a … Continue reading

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Drool with me?

This morning, Alison Natasi’s piece “20 Poets on the Meaning of Poetry” in Flavorwire had me drooling. It’s hard to pick a favorite from among such an abundance of riches, but number 9 from Carl Sandburg’s Tentative (First Model): Definitions of … Continue reading

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Repotting panic

Panic. Yesterday I caught its scent. Unchecked, this is how panic could go down… The equation of doom Stressful, scary thought + spinning of related, old and broken thought-records + automatic body reaction (e.g., tight chest + fast breath + … Continue reading

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That thing that the other night I almost told you

We were doing that thing where we whispered things we love and it was your turn to ask and it was my turn to tell and my truest biggest answer was pounding in my chest so hard I thought surely … Continue reading

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Some Neruda for some sadness

Sadness is knocking on my door this morning. It is the house of me she has come to looking for company. The mind does its mind-y thing, and, mind’s job is to know. The mind, especially in the throes of … Continue reading

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