is there anything so inviting as a blank page, an idle pen? the silence beckoning to scratching scribbling and though the mind may cea...

oh, that sweet bitter taste of one more day hour moment the feeling of loss before it's over the difference of one more and one...

to be a pest to be a fly oh, to ride horse and cow and dog to zip through garbage heaps --make use of someone else's trash-- your ...

two wooden rocking chairs in the yard sitting, facing my open bedroom window as if positioned to spy on me and not the cows lined up c...

shoes. I never did like shoes, they pinch my toes and rub my heels and make my arches hurt. but free feet-- ah, soles bare to wet gra...