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 the rubble of homes and businesses,past the screams--fathers running for their liveson frantic feet through smoke filled air,the boom of bombs bursting in their ears, bulle...

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 rippled through your nerves, brought blood to your face, thumped there by what you saw or heard and how you could not wait to speak to me or anyone who would listen for mo...

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— instead they fly their jets for an island lunch or drink champagne to celebrate the bonus they received when their firm went belly up and their stock holders took it on t...

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 always be a placeto be avoidedlike words better left unsaid.And bones, once broken,the leg, the foot, the arm, the thumbmay heal, perhapsbut always know the achethat dampn...

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 versions of their ownand passed them on as history.What matters thoughis what we hear beyond the words, what tingles as we listen,what throbs when we are toldof rages, jealous...

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. Let us occupy their skin so they will feel the heat and stand on the parched land and with us pray for the green radiance of the earth. Let us occupy their eyes so they...

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 down at me as I looked up and then he went to the window closer to the sill and I moved my face towards him and saw the white marks on his snout and don’t know what he saw o...

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 wish I could tell you how beautiful it is where I live and have you understand my language and hear what I want to say to you. Listen and you can hear me speaking to you...

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 what we do--trade books,” she added. “I love to read.”“I used to love to read when I was younger, but now I hardly read anything except journals and research papers.”“Too...

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 turnpike for awhile and see some of the countryside. I had just reached the top of a hill when I heard a horrible clanking sound from my engine and the car lost speed. No o...

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 bad,we’ve nothing to discuss,”and then he’d sit down on a rockand look up at the skyor at the dirt, and think.One day we asked himwhy he wouldn’t teachand he replied,“I am...

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 that could wake the dead and promise they can make our pillows soft again. Not them. My heroes are the ones who plant their garlic for the coming year and make their com...

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 inalong with beans she’d driedand let them simmer in the kettlehalf the day,stirring now and thenand sipping from a spoon,her eyes closed,searching for the taste she dreamed a...

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 it, we spent almost every day together, so how could I not know what was going on? Why would he hang himself?At the cemetery when they were burying him, I couldn’t keep my...

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 face above me. Your smile, your eyes, your long dark hair lifts this burden from my back and I am here with you. Oh, darling star, your glowing face is all the light I need....