The fully loaded car was running and music was playing. Sunbeams reflected off of the windshield while the light danced around patches of grime left behind by grasshoppers and pesky birds.

"Let it go...let it GOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"

I think Gretchen purposefully put a Disney soundtrack in before I picked up the kids. She knows how much I detest that stuff.

Greg waived at his sister in the rearview mirror and tried to tell himself that she wasn't smirking at him.

"Prankster."

"What'd you say, Uncle Greg?"

For Nanny with love, for many precious years
Of joining in laughter and drying up tears,
For prayer and encouragement, tender and true,
For the times of welcoming with "I love you."
A beautiful heart given beautiful hands
To pour out her love and fill up all demands.
Short in stature; a fearless warrior and bold;
Every life touch'd will miss her wisdom of gold.

Sometimes my brain has run out of dreams
I’m useless, spent, worn out
I must have been a big mistake
My life—an empty tale.
Living on the edge of a mountain
It looks too dark to move
The goals I fancied as my dreams
Lie chained on the other side.
I cannot free them, let them fly
This mountain blocks my way
It darkens the path before, behind
Hopelessness closes in.
Dreams have spilled out through the holes
In the pottery of my life
I’m a broken vessel—what can I do

My name is Mary. Though many of you may not know me now, I was once one of the most active, involved, and prolific contributors to ApricotPie, and many of you who have been here for a long while no doubt remember me.
I joined ApricotPie in 2008. Shortly after joining, I began posting a chapters of a serial historical fiction called The Shadowfields. It was written offhandedly, perhaps even flippantly, purely for the fun of writing it, while my focus and concentration were dedicated to my more serious current project at the time.

1. Primal Again

eyes scan
wide space and
I am back

on the savanna
where I hunted
as a cub

my knuckles
in the wet ground
roots poke my

weak peachy flesh
but soon, that human skin
is again calloused paw-pads

I am back,
I am a hunter
again

all fours,
primal, and throw
my head skyward

and I roar
like my father taught me
they know I am coming

they scatter, all of them
as I run, I charge
they are no match

I
Every time I see you
I hang my head in shame
For all the selfish seasons
The times I was to blame

But you look back with love
A picture drawn of grace
Your friendship given freely
A smile on your face

Charity suffers long
The scriptures say; it's true
Charity is faithful
It's been lived out in you

II
A blessing I ask on friends so dear
When I need them they are near
To join in laughter or dry a tear
I know they will be here

Failure. That's my name. I have always been, and always will be, a failure. There is no changing that.
When I was a kid I failed at school. I failed at dance class. I failed to do my chores. I failed as a sister, I failed as a daughter, but the biggest failure of all was my failure as a Christian.

he tries to touch me
but I shrink away
his eyes are watching
accosting me

my skin shudders
as he spits rhymes
and sweet words to the girl
on my left

she’s laughing
but she doesn’t know
what he did
last night

he does not have
good intentions

I don’t know
how to tell him
to back off

[this has been redacted for possible publication. I will repost if it doesn't get into the college lit mag.]

"The end is the eternal beginning for some, and for others it is yet the eternal ending."
My grandad used to say that to my Daddy back when I was a little kid, and then he would take out his Bible and read from it. My daddy always got mad and left, dragging me along to the truck. Momma always cried when he did that, and looked back at grandad as if to say she was sorry for the mean things daddy said. So that's why we didn't visit Grandad and Gramma very often.