Blog
Travels
Six Days at Topsail
1 Once she starts Haiku She cannot stop counting words It’s meditative Their beach house is glass Flattery is not allowed Untruth is revealed Social platitudes At the sea are washed away Shards of glass rubbed smooth 2 His foot prints in sand She bends to pick up sea...
Gillian and Me
We were winsome, a little different than the others, often off on our own, always looking in. I admired her, her poetic way of seeing the world, and her beige suede boots. She was smart, made pen drawings, played classical guitar, wrote poetry. She gave me the boots....
My Shenandoah Treasures
Seeing T scratch the old horse’s ears and then lay its head on his shoulder. watching a tiny yellow finch on the weathered farm fence one morning and seeing a bluebird the next. My son noticed the color inside the afternoon shadow. Some say bluebirds are a sign of joy...
Truly and Deeply and Madly
As the story goes, up until 23-and-a-half years ago, I had been looking for love in all the wrong places. Then one snowy winter night in the Midwest, I came to an impasse. Standing on a street corner beneath the glow of a streetlamp, stood a tall man in a black coat....