By Monica Kreindel When I was young I could give my grapes to anyone, and anyone could take. Four for my preschool teacher, two for each friend in my class. Ten for my stuffed tiger, fifty for my mother. And everybody wanted one. Soon the grapes started to ripen: no longer small, young, green grapes. Those, anyone could have; but these were new, brightly colored, and I … [Read more...] about Raisins
poetry
Chasing Bunnies
By Claire Keneally My rabbit Ginger was wild when I found her, one eyed, in the yard behind my piano teacher's house. She came home, stitched, to slide on the staccato tiles beneath my father's bed where she played until one day, Ginger and I found women with long hair, and short hair, as short as Ginger's, and no hair, like me. They hid, under … [Read more...] about Chasing Bunnies