He remembers loving her lost in an orchard peaches, pears, apricots falling on his head every day
Find the book and blow the dust off. It’s somewhere in the house.
We write the stories of our lives between the bookends of birth and death They stay on the shelf
The poor are hungry in America. Their numbers would fill stadiums throughout this prosperous land. And feral cats are running wild, eating songbirds in our yards,
Dreams I can’t remember cause a conflagration fire hoses can’t put out. Dreams I can recall arrive in technicolor.
The Nazis call her Hilda, this ancient woman who makes a simple living in a bathroom in Berlin giving high colonics
A little boy from the city down on the farm for a day wanders away to look at the sheep and finds a bull
The mug of tea I drank at dawn, the tea that drove me to the train needs a refill.
Memories never go away. They’re visitors from yesterday arriving unannounced often to a mixed reception. Faces aren’t clear but
It’s one thing to work in an office because your skills say you must. It’s another to want to hang out with
The police have announced the arrest of an ecumenical fellow who in less than two weeks in the middle of the night set fir… to seven churches in St. Louis.
The media is brimming with reports about the legacy of Barack Obama. He’s accomplished so much it’s tough for experts to name his signature achievement.
Faye gives Fred next door her sister’s number to call in case Faye dies. Faye’s 94 and feels okay. Her sister’s 90 and Fred’s
In a long marriage couples communicate in so many ways, often in silence. In recent years I rise very early and now leave post-it notes
I’m amazed at the difference between my friend and me. His response to life is so different from mine. I live deep in the city
