I want to go home, but not in a box. I’ve seen my father ride in one and his father before him and the women who loved them, all carried like babies in a cradle to their final resting place. Not me. I want to go there. Know I will inevitably, but not so calm,…
Where do voices come from? They come from you and me. They come from us like foam upon the sea. Our deepest thoughts and passions, occasionally a truth, expressed through our voices. Living proof. Sing to me of gladness. Sing to me of mirth. Let me hear the still small voice of love. ƒ
So let me see if I got this right. You pick up a green walnut from the ground and you sit there on a branch and you tear into it with your sharp incisors. That’s a beautiful tail you’ve got there for balance by the way. Anyway, you sit there chewing and spitting and spitting…
There atop the thorny bush there is a rose. One rose in late summer. One rose against the odds, against the sky, against the elements, against gravity itself, a thing of beauty, a point of vivid life against the backdrop of normalcy, the green, the standard vegetation and so am I. Let it be for…
Worthless shards of serrated metal, ground to keep valuables secure, like Tutankhamun’s tomb, liquor on the Titanic or cars from ever being stolen. There’s one for your heart. Unless you leave it open. ♥
In the year 1901 on the floor of the Aegean Sea a diver found the lump of something unimaginable, unthinkable, unfathomable, an intricate mechanism indistinguishable from anything of value until technology revealed the workings of a complex mechanical computer capable of predicting with perfect accuracy the swirling of the cosmos, the relative position of stars…
I saw them through the open window. Spring brought them to my life and I felt life within me. A flight of geese pounding through the air breasts beating, hearts honking, wings cleaving all eternity toward me as I stood astonished and rushed outdoors to cheer them on their way. Winter came. The house burned.…
Although I have a fine sensibility for tradition, honor and luxury, I make a choice, having seen two queens approaching their respective one hundredth birthdays. One in a palace with a crown, surrounded by pomp and circumstance, protected and revered and another wearing a babushka in a damp cellar hiding from the bombs, illuminated by…
What you do is send your soul off to school. You know the day will come. You dread it in a way, selfishly wanting the child to stay at home, but you know there comes a time. So all neatly dressed and ready as you’ll ever be, shoes without a scuff, Big Chief pad, two…
Once I drove a school bus in Iowa. Quite a few times, actually, over a number of years. Out in the wild, wide places of time and place long, long ago and I had four little boys who rode my bus. The Vlegers. Their last name was Vleger as I recall and cannot forget and…
