As July wanes into August and heat swirls and summer radiates a sunbaked haze, we nudge the a/c down a notch, fill up Stanley cups with ice and water, and send the sprinklers through another rotation. Early morning welcomes coffee on the porch, a chapter or two, and a bit of quiet contemplation before the…
A Win
Letters form words beneath my thumbs. I tap the green arrow and my question flies into the multiverse of messages. Across the state and across the country my friends’ phones light up with my query. What’s a win for you this week? Later in the day I tap my keyboard and share my wins in…
Who Will We Find Inside?
She looks at me and I look at her.So very, very familiar, and also foreign. Some days she seems a completely different person. For the actuality is, she isβ¦and she isn’t. I wander through a corridor of memories.Ponytails, lopsided, looped with elastics crossed over the bright blue balls at each end.First grade. Frightened.Β Sixth grade. Sick…
A Work Unto A Harvest
Day by day, growth is seldom noticed.Growth is gradual. Silent and slow. Invisible as it inches upward.There’s not much to measure…until there is. Fields of wheat offer a fisted bouquet of metaphors.So much symbolism set forth among seeds.Preparation and planting, toil and soil, waiting and hoping, gathering and reaping. And somewhere in the process, the…
Stopping By Fields On a Harvest Afternoon
*my apologies to Robert Frost Whose fields these are I think I know.His house sits there across the road.And we are in the combine here.To watch it cut row after row.Β We knew that harvest hovered nearΒ The cycle of another year.Β With sweeping fields of golden grainAnd cloudless skies all blue and clear. The tractor trundles…