Category Archives: Suzanne Richardson

April again and in the woods behind my house next to the railroad tracks, there is an ocean of garbage that has tidal timings. Its contents swell and recede weekly. It’s not the empty vodka bottles, or the beer cans, the rotten trays of macaroni, splat on the ground that disturbs me, but the cribContinueContinue reading “Cake + Mirrors + Squirrels by Suzanne Richardson”