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Oh, Annabel: Words of My Father
Daddy holding my sister Jeanne in 1950 My father, Darrell Milas Wilkerson, never owned a home. He told me he was much more comfortable in the seat of an airplane or driving a car. He lived an...
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Incantations for Rain
When L.L. Barkat contacted me to write about rain for Tweetspeak Poetry, we were in a drought in South Louisiana. I agreed to write the piece and then walked to the backside of our family farm to close...
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Turning the Tide
On vacation in Florida with a sprained ankle, I spent most of my time observing people from a balcony. This short story played out before my eyes. I nearly leaped from the eighth floor when . . . (head...
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The Breaking
Photo by Herman King When Laura Barkat asked me to pen a few words about Purple, I thought I’d write about Mardi Gras or my niece Jenny (it’s her favorite color). Imagine my surprise when a murderous...
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On Reflection
Looking like a duck in my yellow babydoll swimsuit in Honolulu, Hawaii, 1968. I may as well come out with it because it’s there. And if you look at me long enough, you’re bound to see a trait I first...
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Too Close for Comfort
My sister Jeanne with Mama in 1964 Writing sent me into the world of social media and it’s pushing me back out there again. I found it easy to fall off the grid and back into my life on the farm. We...
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Sweet Talk
Mama on the left with her best friend Marilyn (1960s) Mama knew how to sweet-talk people. Her magic had served her well in McAllen, Texas. And it seemed to be working in our new home in south...
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