Find me deep in this cave Dusted with time Pull my bones from the earth Arrange them with care Grant them nakedness beneath the animal hide Despair of their silence, all those secrets withheld Examine my paintings by electric light Dream them by the flicker of fire Look closely at the hand Pressed there...
Clouds converge Suspended Oblivious No rush to rearrange Slow and easy in a Dreamy drift All my talk of storm Ignored Electric words, just noise Now wait And watch the violet sky Fall Crush And grind until Every tender piece Breaks, drifts away Borne aloft by a rush of wind ...
originally published in Squawk Back On Monday it’s about a horse. The eyes are remarkably kind, shy, even flirty under their thick veil of lashes. She looks at Nell from the side, sticking her large soft muzzle over the fence to nudge at her outstretched hand....
Let me take a moment and talk a little bit about genre. This is essentially a marketing idea, a guide to where you might find the books you like to read in your favorite bookstore. What are you drawn to? Mystery? Romance? Historical novels set...
Women Within is a novel in three parts, each devoted to one main character. Part One presents Constance Maynard, currently an elderly resident at the Lindell Retirement home in Upstate New York. She is cared for by Eunice and Sam (short for Samantha). Part Two...
After thirty years of living in our charming, leaning, creaky-floored Victorian, we’re moving on. Seattle has become too crowded for us, too busy and loud. It’s a city for younger people who don’t mind hauling groceries down the block because their parking spot vanished while...
Buy here TRIAL BY LUCK The genie didn’t look like a genie at all. More like one of those super nerdy guys in high school with glasses and bad skin, Laurie thought. To Jonathon, the genie was a bronzed surfer with flip-flops and a leather band around...
Preorder here BREE’S MIRACLE Bree had a female complaint. Bad periods, I mean this girl could really bleed. Started at age eleven, would probably be pushing sixty when she quit, lots and lots of Advil on board, not to mention all the Kotex she could run through...
My favorite childhood story, The Little House, both warmed and saddened me. How sweetly it first stood there, on its grassy knoll, how tragically it was swallowed by urban sprawl. The house was ultimately moved to a new open space where it could be happy....
originally published September 1, 2004 in Carve Magazine. I let Gary hold my hand because he wants to so much. Love is one reason. That I might fall on this bumpy trail is another, though it wouldn’t matter if I did. A lot of me’s already...