March, the Death of Winter

Some thoughts on the loose ends of winter: Remnants that scatter. Swept out. Soon to be forgotten. Bared by the persistent cold prove too fragile to stand, neither whole, nor in any semblance of form. A relentless wind, whipping panic, freezing each and every protuberance. Removing the timid, Exposing all that is meager. There is…Read more March, the Death of Winter

Sense of Fall

There is so much tragedy in the world. Though it has always been present, prevalent, stubbornly persistent, it seems alarmingly close now. Too close. For many of us in the west, the world seems to be edging closer to a deep, dark abyss—especially after the events of the past week, the month, the year. It…Read more Sense of Fall

For Now

It begins with a feeling, barely there. A song from a dream you can’t remember. It might just be the most beautiful song in the world, the way it strains your nerves with effort to recall. Once floating in waves of melody, bathed in golden light. Now adrift in fragments are the embers, unwilling to…Read more For Now

Lines and Divisions

Single lines can be strummed together a whole, humming in repetitions a chorus reverberating long after a source can be traced. Single lines can cut, dealing out pain in shivers and slivers, incisive, unrelenting, dividing tediously every in-between of the once placid. Single lines can rise-up, up towards the light, reach out furtive tendrils, see…Read more Lines and Divisions

The Wreck of the Hesperus

I remember the cool darkness as I stood backstage. My fingers were tingling, my stomach was churning, I was both excited and nervous—the classic symptoms of stage-fright that I was experiencing more and more that year. Mrs. Wozniak, my fourth-grade teacher, had nearly forgotten about the event in the auditorium that day. With just minutes to […]

A Glimpse to Hold

I caught a glimpse of my daughter the other day while I was walking down a narrow cobblestone street. It is one of those special passages, hundreds of years old, that seem to whisper: I have always been here and will always be here. My daughter was inside an elegantly restored building, by a window, glancing down at…Read more A Glimpse to Hold