At the Gravesite
“I’d rather be cremated,” he said. We stood in a prairie graveyard, a late fall wind blew through a faded red snow fence and a row of poplar trees, their leav...
“I’d rather be cremated,” he said. We stood in a prairie graveyard, a late fall wind blew through a faded red snow fence and a row of poplar trees, their leav...
The Walmart dracaena is losing its leaves, the soil is too wet, compacted,she will find a more generous pot, set its roots free, help it stand again. If it wa...
And standing on the rim of the new yearwith, undoubtedly, too much hope, and at the same moment, too much worry,like middle managers returning from a monastic...
Perhaps the old year will pull away like a train, leave us standing on the platformunder an oleander dawn,wanting to bloom. And not far off, as close as Janua...