Home I watched the video of the ocean that you sent and read Rumi's "The Seed Market" per your request. It is mid-morning here; a cool breeze brushes my skin while I write. I could see that... Continue Reading →
Aqua They’ll punish you like they did Alice Fitzpatrick for crunching on an apple in church, her cold gloat reduced to half a calf’s lick: a curl of baby hair tossed into crater lake. Distilled aqua ersatz, tear-stained glass... Continue Reading →
That day, we found a moon of a fish, belly-pocked with spots, on the lip of the shore. It was still. It was gorgeous. We did not know what to do. You filled with manic hope, looking for a banyan... Continue Reading →
