The World is Lost to Me Ghosts brood outside my house under redwood trees surrounding my home outside my home…
Sunday Afternoon in Early September This afternoon we will have cleaning of spirits. Need brought on by the sight of…
Audit of my Bee Heart Young, young, I flew to Oregon grapes for those giggling yellow blossoms, like bells, that…
Change in the Weather My four-foot-eight grandmother spent hours under the kitchen window she couldn’t see out of. She intuited…
Blessed are the Front Porch Sitters Blessed are the front porch sitters the back fence talkers the casserole bringers the…
Paper Anne Frank said, “Paper has more patience than people.” Her voice, so alive in her diary, was one the…
Through the morning an espresso over ice topped with bitter tonic water. a drop of fresh lemon juice. a garnish…
Return to the Chattooga River I’ve measured the years in shades of grey. Tonight’s sky is full of lamps. Up…