Faith, Fiction, Friends

It is the smell of goats and sheep that fills my days, my dreams; my house is strong cloth, and poles. What is my father’s inheritance...

Our conversation floats under a yellow umbrella, words rising in a mild wind. July hot, and light warm sweat traces our backs, chests...

Shift your weight, she says, to the left, breathe deeply to lift the right; my brain laughs at the novelty until I laugh back. Focus...

This Missouri clay: it stains my fingers when it rains; zero organic matter requires topsoil, compost, fertilizer if anything is to g...

I walk in the whisper of the wind, splashes of sunlight dappling the arched nave, shadows playing in flickering green. A prism’s refr...

The shadows of blades for feathers, a bird swoops with blue thunder, borne on a wind of violence; accelerates, surrounds, captures, ...

I’m not good with words. One time we saw all those newspapers piled up, rubber-banded, so we thought we’d help dad and stacked them in...

He becomes a road, not only to Damascus or Jerusalem or one less traveled in snowy woods or even open and going west, young man; A r...

I chased them two-fisted with open jars and sometimes hands, hoping for glow on demand, until I understood that their pilgrimage l...

She turns her head, the slight curve of her neck shimmering a slight movement of her shoulders, just enough to remind me of my fingers ...

This thing so evil required a violence, a torturing of body of spirit of soul a rending wail tearing the fabric of time no hand coul...

Linotype: each letter a metallic piece of context, of understanding, or metal on wood, selected by hand, inserted by hand into large...

I fell into a movie the other day, a major motion picture (is there any other kind?) coming soon to a multi-plex near you. I descended...

The boatman poles on, oblivious even to the chilled pale loveliness before him, oblivious to all except grief, a grief more consuming ...

The light in the hall angles a shadow across the bedroom door, shaping a Chinese hat. I read The Hardy Boys: The Mystery of the Chines...

                                                                       The most remarkable thing about this house is the somber silence, t...

Emerging from soundlessness, quiet pools, small eddies, tiny swirls of motion dance, slow, stand. A single note of perfection holds for...

The clanging stills, the distraction settles, the heart hears the song calling, and then sings, resurrecting the phoenix. But I'm...

The sun sheds its gold upon these hills, gentle rolling landscapes, some treed, some bare, glowing in late afternoon. I have been her...

he: kind, a gentle man and gentleman, a ready smile for children, as if they alone could grasp the life behind blood-shot eyes of uns...