A Million Fragile Bones

by Connie May Fowler

Love counts, wherever we find it, even if it dwells solely in the hazy lens of recall.

That moment a child, me, wrapped her fingers around a pencil and pressed it to paper? This is my story. This is how it goes. This is exactly what happened. Let me whisper my truth.

life without a dog—is the bleakest of songs.

Words upon words—prayers

prayers for the hopeless, prayers for the beaten, prayers for the poor, prayers for the fatherless, prayers for two girls who wished their mother dead, prayers for a mother whose Appalachian childhood had been so flamed with cruelty, rising from the ashes was never an option—piled up all around me, but I kept writing.