Tag Archives: Valerie Bacharach

by Valerie Bacharach This is how dreams work—puzzle pieces that never fit, a familiar voicefilled with empty space.The way she dreams her son, always young,or her mother, healthy and smiling,or her father who remembers her name. Yet no matter how hard she tries tograb a transparent arm, a translucent hand,they elude her, leavevague aches, coldContinue reading “Upon Waking“

by Valerie Bacharach I stand in my kitchen, the sky is stilldark, nether time between night and day,while my husband sleepsand the house is quiet, thinking of making coffee, perhaps read the news,although nothing will have changedwhile I slept. I dreamed of my sons while the street was emptyof cars and children.Now I am awake,Continue reading “While”