Tag loss

Juliet

She’d been going through the box that had come in the mail from his unit. It had taken several weeks and by this time she was numb to the idea that their only son, indeed their only child was gone.…

By The Willow Tree

Man writing at a desk. Fire burning in the background.

She closed her eyes and felt the breeze brush her cheeks. Save for the chirping of nattering birds and the burbling of the water over rocks it was silent. When she opened her eyes again, the effect was a burst…

The Last Drop

Man writing at a desk. Fire burning in the background.

“It is not the last drop that empties the water-clock, but all that which previously has flowed out…” – Seneca . Neither here Neither there Neither anywhere . I wonder what they thought When they found him . Not quite…

Where The Hearts Are

“This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath itLeaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman”* The winding two lane cuts through the rocky Hudson Highlands; the river, in…

Quiet

Man writing at a desk. Fire burning in the background.

Somewhere between sunset and sunrise We exist, brothers and sisters, In our nether world Shared with more productive denizens Servants of the light dwellers Police and trash collectors And tough waitresses at bad diners They inhabit the world because they…

Loss

Man writing at a desk. Fire burning in the background.

. I held her hand tightly, because I could. It’s what she wanted. It was sure as hell what I wanted. She was visiting me from out of state and I was showing off the city. We had been wandering…

Last Words

Man writing at a desk. Fire burning in the background.

Some day You don’t even like clowns! I knew it. It had to be a woman Swear you’ll call me Call me Call me You had better call me You were supposed to call me We’re just too different You…

Lost In Time

Man writing at a desk. Fire burning in the background.

The Blue RIdge, hazy in the distance Walls off the valley, bulwark against the outside Cows stand like ancient sentinels Waiting for history to happen again Old schools float like islands in an ancient sea Grounds still littered with grape…

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