I watch the fathers running through the streets,carrying their limp dead children in their arms,their broken hearts bleeding grief and rage.I see them running past the wounded everywhere,past the blood, past the fires, past the crumbling buildings,past th...
It’s not your words but the cry behind your voice when you sit across from me, your tea cup gripped and I see your eyes are moist as your knuckle wipes away one tear. Your heart betrays you as you speak, just saying over tea what happened yesterday that r...
They do not look like Long John Silver, or Blackbeard, or Calico Jack, or talk like Al Capone with a cigar, or mumble like Brando’s Corleone. They may not leap on trains like Jesse James or walk down dusty streets to rob the bank then gallop out of town—...
What’s fractured can’t be fixed. The dish that has fallenand lays shattered,if not picked up carefully,has dangerous edges that can hurtmore than the loss.The cup with its chipped rimwill never be the same to lipsthat loved to sip from it.That spot will a...
These stories told and told across the agesare listened to and tell of times when gods and mighty kings and queensdabbled with our ordinary lives.These stories come from fading memoriestrying to remember what was true.Some were sung by poetswho made versi...
Let us occupy the hearts of our enemies and take the streets of their minds, so they will follow us to the places they’ve forgotten. Let us occupy their hair so they can feel the fierce wind and foul weather blowing and know the storms coming to our lives...
I haven’t seen the bear since that night last spring when he came to the feeders by the window where I write and we saw each other and stopped what we were doing to see each others eyes--he looking in, me looking out. At first, he was standing looking dow...
My words are translations of my breathing and are hard to say in your language. My tongue, my teeth, my lips can barely pronounce the words from my country where the mountains are steep, the valleys dark and cannot be reached without effort and desire. I...
Later, on the way to Shirley’s, I noticed a box of books on the back seat of Jenny’s car. “What are all those books for in the back?”“Oh, that’s my summer reading,” she said. “Before I left for here, I borrowed a bunch of books from some friends. That’s w...
Rainbow’s End: Pt.1Note: This is a long two part story but an intriguing journey that may be worth taking.I was on my way to a bio-technology conference in Philadelphia but didn’t have to be there until three that afternoon, so I decided to get off the tu...
Our teacher handed us some seedsand said,“Go plant these in your yardand water them,then let your questions grow with every leaf.He hardly spoke except to askwhat’s on our minds,and when we didn’t say a word,he’d shake his head and say,“Well, that’s too b...
My heroes do not throw the javelin through space to land beyond the farthest line, nor do they race the country roads in record time, or lead their soldiers over battlefields and bring home bloody heads like cabbages, or do they stand on steps with voices...
Boiling bones in water from the spring,she’ d throw in onions,garlic, carrots with their tops,peelings she had left from other mealsand brew a broth where we could swim like fishup rivers of aroma.She’d chop up cabbagesand other roots and throw them inalo...
Jason’s suicide shattered our lives. We had no clue. None of us knew what was going on. I was his best friend ever since 2 nd grade at Sherman Elementary School. We went to Hidden Valley Camp in Maine every summer, played little league baseball and damn i...
Again, my darling star I see your face among the other stars, glowing in the night time sky falling towards me in a blinding light, luminous and alive, causing me to pause on this steep hill, this stone, this weight much lighter now. I look up at your fac...
