Original poems and found images.

~by Mia Sara

The Black Isle

How many others, at this very minute, are sitting in a dark
kitchen with a cold cup of coffee? I can’t help but wonder.
It’s not my first cup. There was that double espresso I had
after dinner, before driving home in the dark, knuckles white,
night vision sketchy, counting the ways I’ve yet to fail my
son. It was too strong, but I gave up sleeping sixteen years

ago, and faulty vision, all that squinting in the dark, reminded
me of another drive, the one where it took me nine hours to get
from the town of Melrose, in the Scottish Borders, up north to
Inverness. A drive that should have taken four hours, tops, in
the spanking new, navy blue station wagon, with my baby boy
swaddled up tight in his car seat, howling, and me singing Continue reading →