Time and its passing have become even more strange and amorphous than they are in the best of circumstances. It was only just the middle of winter and somehow we find ourselves nearly to…
The first of the neighborhood roses and these words: 1 Only now, in spring, can the place be named: tulip poplar, daffodil, crab apple, dogwood, budding pink-green, white-green, yellow on my knowing. All winter…
two weeks ago i had my dad cut a big branch from the dogwood tree in my parent’s back yard. i shoved the thing into the backseat of the car and made my way…