Moments in Seventy Years, Heart, Heart, Unswell

Love is not fate, nor some duration of frivolous months or years. It is molecules flung wide, astral breaches that birth light and our knowing. We see an owl in a lone cypress, its tonal voice like air in a ventilator, a soft whoosh of meaning and yet melodic as a string of warm, summer … Continue reading Moments in Seventy Years, Heart, Heart, Unswell

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Four Thoughts on Affection

I regard you with strong liking here, on red-washed trails in the Autumn Shenandoah, a dirt and leaf tapestry in heart colored crimson. I wither as your lips push out into the crisp, wet day. Then dinner is ready, salmon and noodles, and our socked feet amble along hard wood. We laugh for silly songs, … Continue reading Four Thoughts on Affection