Before Spring
after-birth drips from each petalgreen buds on branches leaves clenched in prayer the smell of wild carrots and onions.
after-birth drips from each petalgreen buds on branches leaves clenched in prayer the smell of wild carrots and onions.
Cranes battling each other in the sky, Samson and Goliath-sized shovels mauling each other’s words, an image that keeps floating in my head like an inflated ball at a football
I’m thinking about a bunch of things as the dryer sounds like a heartbeat with every rotation. And maybe that’s what the Earth sounds like each time the planet travels
Finding a place where I can get vaccinated feels like a treasure hunt. But so far, I have not come up with any prized appointment. All dead ends. First, there
(from MG novel, The Pool of Knowledge) Sanunique and Pickard landed at a stopover along their migration path with thousands of other birds for rest and recuperation. For days, they’d
Eating an orange this morning, I thought about those generations of sailors who contracted scurvy because they were unable to get sufficient amounts of vitamin C on long voyages. I