Twenty-four

In the silvery light of morning when nothing else matters, save the thread of a cock crowing in the distance; face of my beloved etched stilly in that pale gleam before sound, as might have existed in the beginning, prior to clamorous tires on asphalt; kettle set to...

Ebb as Flow

When I lived in Maine where seasons merged at nature’s whim, I was often devastated by the sudden and profound advent of the equinox. In thirty-two sets of seasons, I can honestly say I was never fully prepared. Perhaps as a result of my birth and upbringing on warmer...

Sapid

Do you ever wish things were other than they are? I sometimes indulge in fantastical ruminating more than I’d like, and should know better. Some days are so fraught with challenges, I must force myself to look outside and acknowledge that the day is simply a day; a...