A Drift
Splotches of paint thrown on the canvas of my mind Dripping, slowly through my words … More A Drift
Splotches of paint thrown on the canvas of my mind Dripping, slowly through my words … More A Drift
I could hear them through my smell. Walking through a canopy of trees I stumbled into their conversation Crisp, cold ice dancing with mossy, rich mud. Greeting one another. One yawning, ready for rest Nodding wearily The other smiling … More The Reunion
My son, Alex, taught me how to make his famous deliciously dense Danish bread over the Christmas holiday. It’s a three day process, not that time consuming and yet it requires remembering and a level of focus. Yesterday while the loaves were in their final rise before baking I called Alex regarding how many hours … More Our Full Potential, Space, Time and a Warm Cloth?