Author: admin

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust Seventy-six years of worry to wind up the earth’s crust Though if dust is our beginning and also our end Perhaps we are born wherever we end up in the wind And death is simply where we begin it...

To what safe harbor will we sail What sanctuary; if the dam should break Letting loose a raging flood To the howling wind I’ll raise my voice The broken branch won’t break me Where then does the fault lie? If upon myself I look,...

To celebrate the day I go looking for the sun Fresh as the morning air Spring has just begun A gentle breeze Has come my way To brush my hair And blow my cares away Spring is in the air The sun is breaking through Pushing away...

A face well-painted May catch the wandering eye Causing the heart to stumble Brushing the words aside How different beauty looks When love is but a game The eye most easily fooled Sees better through the pain Therein lies a...

The great golden eagle Sails the endless sky To feed the nesting young A long but loving ride Naked are the trees Until spring turns winter green To the cold barren branch Life is but a dream It will toss and turn So goes the...

Miss Bulldog was the best. To see her exit her house, trot down the ramp from the porch and huff at the fence. To observe her ears move when the back door opened; see her turn and run back for all she was worth!          ...

She was meticulous─ all four foot eleven of her tidy and compact. In her kitchen, every dish and utensil stood at attention, drying towels hung in uniformity. Looking back, I suspect I may have upset her perfectionist apple cart...

With a quick flick of the wrist he snaps the crisp tablecloth into place and smooths the white linen’s creases. This is his favorite time of day─ the lull before he greets throngs of famished guests who care less about...

No modification necessary I was born perfect. My size nines do not fit in my husband’s palm but he never asked me to crush my bones and bind my feet for his pleasure, a past tradition of control. I could never erase the me I was...

One of three poults he spurred our sympathy with his nightly limp across the lawn, always the last in a chorus line of five. We found his challenge endearing, his mother’s patience merciful as she hung back while siblings...