Author: nlondon36

November 1st Day of the Dead.  My ancestors are waiting at the gate, dressed in heavy winter coats with a dusting of snow on the collar. The air smells of ancient Ukrainian pine forests and clean running streams. I coax them in and they sit, pull off their gloves, warm their hands by the fire then … Continue reading Day of the Dead

Death rides in on his black horse, gathering up everything that isn’t nailed down. Death comes in like a tornado, pulling the roof off the last remaining structure of who you thought you were, scooping up the sound of your newborn at your breast, the sigh of your lover as you turn to him under … Continue reading what happens next

I find my heart in the closet looking through my clothes. “Where’s the cape?” She asks. “The one with the big S for Supergirl.” “At the cleaners,” I say. “And the tiara?” I choose my words carefully because I’m pissed. “Don’t you remember? You gave it away to the first little girl who admired it. … Continue reading Superpowers

Here’s what I want to tell you: the Japanese monks and nuns write poems as they lay dying. Japanese death poems. You can look it up. What do they say? Some version of I am here at the edge of unknowing. It is dark. It is light. The light is within the dark. There is … Continue reading darkness as medicine

Peace lies broken, her wings crushed under the weight of tanks. The old hollow words of peace on earth good will towards men will not raise her up, will not put wind under her so that she might fly again with the olive branch and a promise of renewal and hope restored. Because peace lies … Continue reading all will be well