- - To be, so unlike another Discomfited in a room where I have never been nor will ever be. No lace. No flowers. Unrecognizable to my...

- - Shades of Red A man will tell you if you say The dress was coral that he doesn’t know what color that is. It’s a funny joke tha...

- - Caravanserai Cords of silken blood flow in the peaks and passes of my body, a traveling miracle, while I read the news, all of...

- - My parents with me after Dad had preached his sermon one Sunday, probably in 1959; I'm guessing it was Mother's Day; I am the yo...

- - The maids are long gone who dusted the porcelain and fluffed the down. Bone-white pressed linens on pillows and perpetual shine on maho...

- - the bouquet I carried in our daughter's wedding, dried in l'atelier; with my stick woman I love a wedding, with its organza and...

- - I type this with one finger while James sleeps on my chest. We are at home in his apartment on his fifth day of life, with his mommy an...

- - name: James Lawrence born: January 18, 2012 (his due date) Time: 11:17pm labor: 22 1/2 hours health: excellent weight: 6 lbs. 11...

- - When I love myself least, I am least able to love someone else. When I am least in love with myself, I am the most self-centered. I t...

- - Lesley planting our garden 2 1/2 years ago There is the delusion of falling in love with love. My unborn grandson is a fragile being (a...

- - Red Pines Every day I drive to work and it is the same thing. Listen to two minutes of political news or economic disaster. Turn it...

- - Ode to a Turkey Vulture “The other world is to be found, as usual, inside this one.” ~ Susan Sontag O companion of my heart, I am...

- - Love comes with a knife, not some shy question, and not with fears for its reputation. I say these things disinterestedly. Accept...

- - my mom   Endless Fingering the past and its memories like beads of stone or bone, like the ivory necklace of your mother’s you wor...

- - The tavern in the middle of our town looked like one of those windowless bars I rode by when I was a kid in the back of the station wag...

- - Before my time, my father was an itinerant preacher, driving his old car through the Blue Ridge mountains of Virginia to four parishes, ...

 - - A world, and you in it The lines on the coasts of maps parenthesize us as if we are together though you (you) are on the Ea...

- - I read a friend's post about losing a baby to miscarriage at ten weeks. Her love for the baby she barely knew surmounted what some...

Love loves love The hoof loves the ground because it's there always and yet always changes at her touch. They begin to look...

-- Inge and me after walking in the Making Strides event This is my best friend, Inge. She is a breast cancer survivor. Today we walked a...