June 7, 2024
But now, after fourteen years of writing plant care articles ad nauseum, she was ready to resign and return to some menial retail job or something, even if it meant she’d struggle financially.
June 6, 2024
hough it's said the thief towards His right received redemptive grace
through faith alone, his time on earth was brief, but mine is not.
May 29, 2024
The beast came and claimed your soul before I could speak words of healing to the winds Releasing you back to our care
May 28, 2024
There are two light bulbs shining in the room
like two fixed eyes in a reflection.
Already the person has disappeared
and there is a thud in your head.
It’s like the sound of time passing.
It’s like the echo that would reach you
in advance of your own future death.
May 26, 2024
The car was quiet. Eddie listened to a radio station doing a two-hour Phil Collins set. He heard ‘In the Air Tonight’, ‘You Belong to Me’, “Sissudio’, ‘Take a Look at Me Now’ and ‘Take Me Home’ every thirty-five minutes. Everything repeated. The show was taped then looped because apparently no one wanted the late-night on-air shift.
The programming kept him awake. He didn’t stop again until they reached the junction with I-10 in Lake City, Florida, just after three in the morning. Eddie had driven two-hundred-sixteen miles. The Old Man needed all fifteen gallons.
May 24, 2024
There isn’t a way to be both known and invisible, to be seen and hide the secret stories, in a misspent sacrifice that protects others…
May 22, 2024
“I’m sorry. I’ve almost got it licked though. I’m never touching another drop. Going on the wagon. I’m quitting. That was it last night, I promise. I’m done,” he said.
May 20, 2024
We cover the globe with hands outstretched,
palms naked and dirty from ash
lying on our backs, looking at the sky as the spark of life leaps from our eyes.
May 17, 2024
Mouth opened for the sky;
that’s the you who’s new, who I keep in mind.
Waves of our mothers and fathers flow by,
grazing our toes in this sand of wartime.
May 15, 2024
Breathe in the beauty of a lone "Siberian Elm," commiserate with "Driving Alone," or laugh a little with a "Plastered Leg and a Cat."
May 14, 2024
The tides have plundered the shoreline, leaving a reek of decay and iodine leaving a reek of decay and iodine and even the high art of a cerulean sky appears to be something strangely buoyant,
May 12, 2024
I thought about all I had gone through to reach this point: all the planning, lying, deceptions, and even the murder. With a widening smile, I concluded that I felt happier than I had for years.