We’ve moved my wife and I from home to the last place we’ll ever live and she wants to know why

Things reach a certain age, an age at which things don’t work the way they once did. The battery in your car,

Rose was a plain girl from a small town. She sang in the choir, never missed Bible study, left for the big city

After all these years my wife at the ironing board, perfect in panties. Donal Mahoney

Inseparable they are, landing one after another on the ground under the bird feeder two mourning doves

Although we’ll never again be body to body or mind to mind, you and the place and the years are alive every night in the lette… I’ve stored in my room.

Sixty years ago, the two of us rode tricycles up a little hill behind our school. Nothing stopped us till

Forget the fall equinox. Fall arrives when all the moths that dance on summer nights around the porch light disappear when the first cold dawn appears.

Linda’s an animal person who puts her money where her mouth is, owns a ranch outside the city and takes in kittens, puppies, birds that

After services on Sunday the old Marlboro man puts his Bible under his arm and talks to his pastor through a hole in his neck.

The media is brimming with reports about the legacy of Barack Obama. He’s accomplished so much it’s tough for experts to name his signature achievement.

In a yard abandoned this winter when the owner moved grass is growing this spring

This just in. In metro St. Louis last night a woman gave birth to a boy in the bathroom of her second-floor apartment.

The soup kitchen opens an hour late. The rain finally stops and the hungry file in. They’ve had a long wait.

No youngster himself, Fred often… “There are always preludes to hell… For Fred one of those preludes is… the things in life Fred can’t fix.… Another prelude is paying the trad…