Karen Bryant Lucas·Nov 6“For each age is a dream that is dying….”It was the summer of 1967. I was 14.A response icon1A response icon1
Karen Bryant Lucas·Nov 3Musings on MarcescenceWhen to let go, when to hang on — how do they know.A response icon1A response icon1
Karen Bryant Lucas·Oct 20A prayer for sabbath timeWhat texts do you turn to when your soul gets tired?
Karen Bryant Lucas·Oct 13Hold, please….You know dishwater that has gone cold and is no longer sudsy, but greasy and gray? That’s how my writing feels right about now.
Karen Bryant Lucas·Sep 29“…hopes of putting down roots….”It might be nice to live in a place where I knew I belonged.
Karen Bryant Lucas·Sep 15Coyote at the Crossroads, RevisitedTen years later I can still remember the feel of his fur, the look in his eyes.
InZenitebyKaren Bryant Lucas·Sep 8The Art of the MealIn praise of my husband’s cooking. Because I need some joy right about now.A response icon2A response icon2