I know this story to be true because I know Ruben and he wouldn’t lie even though Ruben and I have never met. He lives in Alabama in a hollow and I live in St. Louis. But that makes no ...

I learned a murmuration is a flock of starlings whirling and turning in the sky, changing directions in a second, flying back again, blackening

Willie in his 80s now hadn’t made sense in years. His wife understood his grunts from the recliner where she propped him up

You love your grandson, this blue bundle in your arms. There’s no doubt about that. He has peaches for cheeks and the sky’s in his eyes

We worry so much because we’re nice people. We want to find a way to feed the poor house the poor

I’ll have to ask some preacher what if he comes when it’s inconvenient when I’m bowling or lifting a stein of lager

Jim Clowes had a red '53 Ford that looked terrible. The paint on the car was almost all gone, although there were still patches of paint mixed with patches of rust. The clunker was an u...

One has to be careful campaigning door-to-door. One doesn’t know who’s behind any door. Could be someone

Each morning I step from the train and march with the others leaving the station. The weatherman’s warned of rain

They were refugees, too, back in the Forties, settled in Chicago, learned English, some a lot, some a little,

Christmas is now the Holidays. But Hanukkah is still Hanukkah and Ramadan is still Ramadan. Easter still has its name. The media needs more time

A rainy Sunday and Pastor Smith is in his pulpit bellowing to the congregation, “I hope you understand

In America we say we get the government we deserve. That’s been true for the past eight years.

It boils down to this. There are two kinds of people in Upper Slobovia at the moment, those who prefer hard-boiled eggs chopped in their potato salad