DISTURBED ROOTS BY JULIE MAE PIGOTT I didn’t see her because dragonfly wings are translucent. I never looked for her, because during the day, phosphorescence isn’t visible to the naked…
RED GALOSHES BY JULIE MAE PIGOTT I’ve been looking in mirrors. Searching for reflections of belonging. Begging for someone to teach me the undecipherable code of family roots. I look…
LONGING TO BELONG BY JULIE MAE PIGOTT Longing to belong I walk cold water beaches stopping to caress thunderworn treesbranches broken and torn offroots tangled still clinging to rocks clinging to memories of an…
Toothless BY JULIE MAE PIGOTT In the attic of our sage green, 850-square-foot house on West 12th Street in Juneau, Alaska, Ben found four things: An old wicker baby stroller…