Sukey Gap Graveyard The road here is pocked with holes, graves strung mostly in mistflower or phlox, apt to spread airy trails. Not a place for plastic lilies who squall into the quiet, but moss with enough give to muffle the whole of your existence, let a mythology larger than your own encompass the knee, the folded hands, words dampening what’s left of sunken or toppled names. One stone says Perninia, my third great grandmother, who holds open the iron gate then closes it behind me, and flies softly into the trees. She sings from … Continue reading Mind the Gap by Sharon Perkins Ackerman →