
Alone in a boat on the ocean at night
And I ask the universe: what is for me now? / Where do we go from here? Continue reading Alone in a boat on the ocean at night
And I ask the universe: what is for me now? / Where do we go from here? Continue reading Alone in a boat on the ocean at night
The last time I saw my mother, she had just died. Continue reading The Last Time, Artist’s Dream
The smoke from her morning fire brought the kayakers up from their tents. Lively, but respectful they filled the cabin and roused themselves with coffee and hotcakes and fruit. The table had been pulled into the center of the cabin. They were a sight, their outer clothing smudged and duct taped, their skin weather-tanned, their faces exuberant. Continue reading The Gift
Our new beginning is here / But we must harness the yoke / Pull the cart / Over rock and rut. / The cart is full of gloomy sins and / Glowing ambitions / Heaped to overflowing . . . Continue reading The Yoking