The last visitor before I sleep is always the old priest puffing up the stairs to my door, a wine cask under each arm, a loaf of pumpernickel in his teet…
He doesn’t have to prove anything to me. The Holy Spirit, that is. I’ve always known He’s there, from childhood on, even if I ignored Him for many years. But like others growing older, ...
He lives at the edge of a forest and loves all the different trees. He comes to the city for food and basic necessities. He hates the long drive
Bill’s a conservative upset that Meals on Wheels and Medicaid face possible cuts in America’s budget. He yells to colleagues
Little Nora and Grandpa Bill sit on swings in Grandma’s garden. A hummingbird arrives to sample the brilliant flowers at this buff… Grandpa Bill sees a teaching mome…
If you’ve seen a cockatoo up close in a cage or at a zoo you may have noticed how a cockatoo looks at you.
I met a proper woman in a proper p… on a Monday in Peoria. I was take… she looked like Jackie after Dall… but without the pillbox hat. She was from New York and I was…
If you arrive too early at the public library and stand on the steps with Mabel till the doors open
Phil doesn’t go to church but after midnight he enjoys watching preachers on TV swing their bibles in the air, march across the stage, yell
Fuzzy wasn’t my cat although I fed him every morning at four o’clock for 10 years. He was my wife’s cat, loved to sit on her lap, be petted, jump down and rub his head against her feet....
Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow in February and says six more weeks of winter. That same day the first moth of spring lands on my storm door
Years ago they came from many plac… to study writing at a university in the middle of America surrounded by lush corn fields. They worked hard, became friends,
Melanie cried for hours the day a drunk driver ran over her dog a week after she had an abortion. She loved that dog so much she told her mother she knew
Fred’s not a hunter but Animus is a beast he’d hunt down and kill and mount on his wall if he had a clear shot
In 1962 my father toiled in Quinc… two weeks, no more, and saw no blacks except for two young ladies who moved like swans