February 6, 2024
I’m more stone inside than flesh now, a danger to myself and you. You do not see
how I’ve grown fierce.
February 3, 2024
January 30, 2024
“He unlocked his word-hoard.” That must mean something still. And so must my forebears, who used different languages…
January 27, 2024
How the Earth Blankets our History by Chapters Archeologists are Worms and Bugs and Burrowing Creatures…
January 24, 2024
You looked at me. I sprawl like a spoilt garden at the estuary of spring.
January 20, 2024
Doctors frowned at me as they admonished: Be sure you get your mammograms every year. The fibrous tissue is very dense with calcium deposits. We need a mammo every year for comparison.
January 15, 2024
but you also forget the names of acquaintances, people you knew things you were good at, national and state capitals…
December 30, 2023
What if I accept that I am, as you say, too much? Too much of stomach and too much of sag…
December 21, 2023
Opening scene: close-up on a fireplace. So hyper-real we could almost feel the embers and we could certainly see and hear it crackling. The extreme close-up lingered. We sat watching for several minutes. Evelyn was enraptured.
November 19, 2023
Sara Brunsvold is establishing herself as a skilled storyteller in her debut novel. Her book pays tribute to an underappreciated group of people who altered the cultural course of America during the difficult post-Vietnam War-era while also being a call-to-arms for Christians; reminding Christians there are opportunities to share God’s love through every moment and every meeting.
November 3, 2023
I stepped into the bar where old men sat grumbling, young barman pulled pints from a pump.
October 20, 2023
Then the roosters, together, roared like they were the kings of the jungle…