Robyn Sarah

Poignancy of the discarded. The armless doll that stares from the trash heap in spring, the sagging sofa with the cat-scratched arms, the love-stained mattress in the rain. Inside-out umbrellas, …

As illness makes us live hour by hour, revising our day as we go. As winter plants a great snowy foot in our path. As glass baffles the fly. How …

As a storm-lopped tree corrects its shape over a few green seasons, so time closes around the hole in itself left by the terrible event. (in the quiet room suddenly …