I am standing at the edge of morning. A slender line of indigo runs parallel with the snaking Shawangunk Kill River here, illuminating the trees in the place where Water meets Land.

NarrativeJenny WonderlingMarch 10, 2022love, earth Comments

Just Body Parts

My athletic 12-year-old niece tells me absently mid-air, looking down, “I hate my feet; they’re so ugly,” while wiggling ten perfectly adorable toes.

Narrative, EssayJenny WonderlingJanuary 2, 2022Self love, body image, healing Comments

Paperwhites

I handed them to her in a see-through sleeve of cellophane, flourished with a slender satin bow. Even without abandoning the sash of purple or thin outer garment, one could plainly see their inner ruddiness and wild, unexpressed containment.