parking lot poetry I dress myself with rain make a hat of the clouds and a scarf of the wind a coat of many shadows I can see the stepping pools across the asphalt if I watch my step I can hit every one of the puddles I am a body of water walking on…
incidental contact we saw a beautiful purple house a woman and a man arranging plants she spoke with a smile in her words “I had all these plants in my house it was like a jungle” she said as we passed by never to see her again after my third trip shuttling the members of…
spokane a family is eating outside Spokane the daughter is still in her soccer uniform the mother chats as she passes the potatoes the father is tired and trying to engage the dog is waiting for someone to share they will finish their dinner their conversations their homework they will turn on the television their…
you have nothing to say forget what the flowers told you or the smile from the little one in front of you at the coffee shop how can you give voice to the joy of a schnauzer or speak to the grief that rises with the sun day after day anything you say will only…
unending pie “good thing love is an unending pie” were the closing words from a friend after seeing pictures of our new pup Loretta running through the snow grief has swirled through the season like an unending blizzard squalls of sorrow drifts of absence melt into tears that pool and freeze Lizzy! still sniffs where…
We drove up to Hartford for the Connecticut Flower Show today and were caught by surprise by light snowfall–enough to cover the ground and remind us of how little snow we have seen this winter, and send me to writing. unseasoned it will not make sense to most for me to say I have missed…
My sermon this week grew out of three verses where Jesus talks about seeing ourselves as salt and light, and his words set me thinking about metaphors, particularly the metaphors we use to understand who we are. Thanks for reading. The sermon title gives me reason to also add if you have not subscribed to…
failer it’s been thirty years since we first watched Phil Connors keep waking up in Punxsutawney trying to figure out how not to live the same day again and again and again he failed failed failed . . . someone calculated that it took about thirty-four years of February seconds for Phil to get to…
hardship “Hardship is routinely hidden.”–Kieran Setiya the sentence came at the end of the second paragraph I’m not sure he meant for it to be as significant as it was as I read down the page I think about people I meet our stories were mostly hidden we are trained to keep them so the…
get rhythm I live with an arrhythmia I know of what I speak it’s awfully hard to dance when you cannot find the beat somewhere along the way as I traveled through my week the metaphor extended ‘cause we still can’t find the beat to life beyond these past two years of isolation and defeat…