Youth
Sometimes when a door opens the figure that stands on the threshold is so something that everyone stops to look at him. Such was the case...
Helplessness Blues
City sounds secede succumb to soft stroke strikes. Soon: silence. An adjustment to the calm coupled with a realization of the chaos...
Why
I remember looking at him during the trial. He had taken so much for me. The people in suits around me gave a nod. I walked up and felt...
Time
Soft wood, coarse fiber. A paddle circle. Precise lines drawn on forest green. Me. Standing watching her and wondering why she's on the...
Immortality
It was the young boy’s first time at a nursing home. He had made friends with a man named John. John told some pretty fantastic stories,...
Nature
It was the second night of camp and I needed to do what I came for. So out of the tent I went quietly. I walked carefully past our small...
Why I Write
The young boy slept and as he slept he dreamt. It was not one of those fantasy dreams with the dragons and the fire. It was a dream of...
Person vs. People
Across the table, he looked at me and said, "It's the people that ruin it for me." I wasn't sure about that. I love the people. But then...
Mass
"Going to Mass during the week doesn't count." I hate writing this. A swirl of thoughts as I sit sadly- a vitamix of variety in Bible...
Community
The French were victorious. As a tourist I had never watched soccer nor particularly liked France. But in a small tavern offshooting the...