Wash. Rinse. Dry. Fold.
There is nothing grandiose about a pile of laundry.Just another basketful of simple human technology –shields
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The Rut
I’m the grass in the field and she bounces off me, never trouncing a blade,like springboards,
First Rides
It was the summer before driver’s licenses. The summer before serious dating. It was the summer
Wounded Beauty
I’m not so bad-looking. My dad says, “Honey, you’re certainly attractive enough for me,” which
Peace in Bassano del Grappa
Rainclouds, dressed in royal blue, drift south from the alpine glaciersand replenish the brio of the
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Walt Whitman and His Bridge
Slate clean — I lived for another day.See those flowers over there?See how nothing gets in?See
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The Polar Bear Letters
Winter 2024 Dear Henry, I know it hasn’t yet been long since we parted ways but
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Without Words
He runs his hand along the soft, gentle curves of her backmemorizing every little nuance of