Let the heart be moved again
by the green hills, grass whistles, willow huts and pillow forts of...
by the green hills, grass whistles, willow huts and pillow forts of...
It happens like this: I’ll be sitting outside and the reclining light of a near full moon will glance off my shoulder onto my fingers and let me, make me, work ...
Mid-September and Sirius, the brightest star, the “Dog Star”, is in the south-eastern sky. From my little patio, I see it at 5 AM rising over a peaked roof acro...
Ten days ago I was invited to read for the 10th anniversary, and as it happens, final iteration of Bridge Songs—a gathering of song, spoken word and art. The fo...