A box of glitter, •
pretentiously hazardous: •
a thing forever. Continue reading →
Nothing we can ever do repays what our Mom does for us but that’s ok. We can keep hoping to be as giving. Billy Collins reads his poem, The Lanyard.
measuring the sky •
tease out all the colors blue •
hang it on my wall. Continue reading →
far off late at night •
the air is quiet, dogs sleep, •
two owls talk dirty Continue reading →
Can you reset, retune your jaded ears? Continue reading →
Life is a play. It’s not its length, but its performance that counts.
