Dead Wood…

Dead Wood…

Dead Wood… I perfected the fine art of eye rolling when I was thirteen. So charming.  I’m guessing I came to this expression in response to something my father said when I thought I knew way more than he about the world and that he was purposefully...
Ode to Blake…

Ode to Blake…

“This is how I shall measure time….” I can’t find the poem. I found a short essay from which the poem was crafted, but the poem may be lost, which is not surprising since there have been many moves and nearly three decades between. The search...
Garden Style…

Garden Style…

“We are stardust, we are golden…..And we got to get ourselves back to the garden.”   –Joni Mitchell I am more than just occasionally tardy and I know it is a bad habit. I was late to an evening appointment today but I feel it was for a good...
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