On a Road in Maine
On rocks at the edge, lighthouses standout in refraction and reflection. Outliers beaming sixteen miles over serried waves. The earth …
On rocks at the edge, lighthouses standout in refraction and reflection. Outliers beaming sixteen miles over serried waves. The earth …
Curtis is in the jailhouse drinking from an old tin cup. Dehlia’s in the graveyard she may never get up. …
In memory of a kitten and a dark mark on my soul… We come to this life full of doubt. …
Maybe it’s the season but today feels like something simmering, barely off the boil. Here in NY it is gray, …
Maybe it is nothing, just geese heading South. How did it come to be this seasonal ritual? Why the first …
I am walking the edge of the prairie, bare mournful ground. The deep roots are gone. Houses, barns, wagons, hay …
Fractured before we are born, shattered maybe crazed at the end. In between all is light and luminaria. Except in …
The dirt under her nails isn’t chic. She comes by her brick-red lips the hard way, which is fine if …