Writings by: Rita Quillen

This author has written 2 pieces

When the Children Come Home

When the children come home We don’t kill the fatted calf But we do cook both ham and turkey Casseroles and pies and fruit and flowers Table groaning under the sacrament Borne of blood and absence, Every visit prodigal in its intensity But not really: Because they aren’t staying.

He Tells Her a Love Poem

This is all your fault— Every bit of it. When we came here for the first time, You said, “I want my house right there.” Like I could wave my hand Turn bull thistle, broom sedge, Joe Pye and Goldenrod into Orchard grass and flowers, Turn a wilderness into a…