Author Archives: meaghancc

A million and one ways to die

There are a million and one ways to die. Protests against a fanatical interpretation of a religion, suspension bridge collapses, stampedes, a virus. Those were just today’s headlines. There are a million and one ways to die. To die even … Continue reading

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The deep freeze

There are a few things that come to mind when I think of growing up in the Midwest. Cicadas and corn in the summer. Pumpkin patches and apple picking in the fall, half the class being absent on the first … Continue reading

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Poutine (not Putin)

Montreal, 2012. Right after we were married. I took a train through the countryside of Ontario after a long work trip to meet Mike in Montreal. It all felt so foreign, so surreal. Just in arms-length of New York City. … Continue reading

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The season.

I see the dark silhouette of the tree. The backdrop is the soft pink sky. The tree’s green buds barely visible. This wiry elm didn’t get the news that spring came early this year. Its twists and turns more ominous … Continue reading

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We are all still here.

I look at the tree in our front yard. Every year it shocks me. As if we’re in a conversation that is seemingly one-sided—mostly me, lamenting the lack of rain and how stressed the trees must be and wondering if … Continue reading

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Braiding, a poem.

The unstoppable, unquenchable chase for it. The home of a creature, a creature that captured bicarbonate and calcium from the sea around them and used it to grow and grow. Power over rather than power with. Smooth, textured, round, sharp, … Continue reading

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She reaches

She reaches for the sight of light at the windowearly in the morningsbetween us in our bed.Her eyes wide, fixed, a steadfast gaze in the dusk of dawn.She’s started reaching this month.Reaching for the delicate branches above, reaching towards the … Continue reading

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Memories of a clothing swap, memories of a life

A month into my breast cancer diagnosis, I was sitting with other young women, in all states of undress, all levels of high with medicinal weed, and half glasses of champagne and tea and electrolyte-infused drinks strewn about. The Mission … Continue reading

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Ok, Dad, you have my attention

I’m not a birder. I don’t have a bird list, traveling to the far reaches of the earth to see this bird or that bird, hear a his and hers call and response, marvel at the plumage and elaborate mating … Continue reading

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This is what moonlight feels like

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