Stomping in the back porch to knock the dirt off my boots, there’s too much wind to work outside on this gray day, clouds hurrying in from the north. I make tea thinking you might be having some about now. Mine has little flavor and the color is wrong. Picking up a book, I … Read more
I would show you the adolescent Canada geese on the pond. Better behaved than we ever would have been, they stay close, like Catholic school girls in prim uniforms between their parents in church. We would give them names like Cecelia and Mary Margaret and Bridget, us standing by the donkey, scratching his ears … Read more