Forgiven

I could write about the tiny Arabian horse,her pale matted coat grown to maximumfor the winter, nature knowing what her childrenneed toward the end of life, once lusterand beauty as only youth can confer; later,stripped back to essentials, hip bones protrudingover...

Circle of Life

Nothing is ever a mistake, not evenwhat we toss into the maw of a waitingdonation bin, our acquisitionsand castoffs equally important to usin their time; And aren’t we a part of nature, brightflowers blooming their prolific heads offout there in the garden, then...

Coming to Grips

Fifteen degrees on the outdoor thermometer, and I dread walking out to an unheated greenhouse, though he tells me I should, prepares me for what I am about to witness; Tomato plants first, laden with unripened fruit, no fault, didn’t get the structure built on...