Author Archives: janishaag

I’m pretty sure they gather in my back yard,the dead loved ones and the ancestors,chatting quietly in the night, their voices rustling like the susurrationsunder the whispering sycamore leavesbig as bread plates every summer. I lie awake sometimes, listening totheir … Continue reading →

I see you from time to time,jogging down J street as I drive by, and I want to stop, leap outof the car, and holler, “Baby!” As though you came from me,as if, ages ago, I had not had you … Continue reading →

You thought it was what they pay you for,but it turns out that the heart work is the true stuff of a life. That we’rehere to live and grow in love— that’s the real work that cannot bemeasured in hours … Continue reading →

(or One More Reason I Shop at Trader Joe’s) Because, after years of seeing grocery storesigns say, “15 items or less,” these guysget the usage right—not once, but twice, at the same checkout stand.And while they could be accusedof redundancy, … Continue reading →

Sometimes, emerging from the shower,a line flits across my mind like a gnat,and if I don’t snatch it and set it downwhere I can see it, it’s gone. So, toweled and dripping, I let my dampfootprints pad into the nearest … Continue reading →

I am too old for this, I think,open mouthed, as the technicianaffixes tiny pearls to my teethwhere nearly invisible trays will attach,adjusting my bite a half century aftermy parents paid the orthodontist$1,000 to straighten my youthfulchompers. Now I am paying … Continue reading →

(In memory of Nell Lester) The snippet of creeping plantin the pint glass on my kitchen windowsillhas grown wispy roots that wavelike the dangling tentacles of jellyfishor the white-blonde hair of a girlfloating on her back. I was that girl … Continue reading →

I look at them dubiously in their cellophanejacket in the produce section, their zippertantalizingly open to tempt passersbylike me with that tumble of dark rubies,practically daring the shopperto reach in and try one. I never do, assuming that would be … Continue reading →

Maximum cat, you are,I say to the big guy sprawled on his sideon my office floor, where I havejoined him for a time, still getting himused to the idea of me, as togetherwe get used to the idea of not … Continue reading →

(for Clifford Ernest PollandMay 21, 1952–March 19, 2001) You pop in less frequently now,but, when I see a handsome older manwalking into Target, about your height,hair and beard the color of a storybook cloud,I think—not for the first time—that could … Continue reading →