Monthly Archives: February 2016

318 Night sweats

As for me, I would avoid the dark stretches of the night, where gremlins, anxiety and ghouls slither from beneath my bed to invade their annex in my head where all that is left for me is xanax and the … Continue reading

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317 My neighbors little daughter

My neighbor has a seven year old daughter, all big blue eyes, long blonde braids, a brain built for slaughter. While raking my yard this morning, I looked up in time to see her kill a baby rabbit with her … Continue reading

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316 Walking Nancy home

If I just hold your hand and walk along beside you, I hear the lovely melody of stars, while certainty, like fireflies blazing in the night, illuminates our pathway with its light.

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315 Thoughts at midnight

When we see no end to the diminishment, the final scene stretching on and on, for what else are we forgiven to pray, than for strength to manufacture a conclusion, a self-inflicted period to end our sentence. The punctuation of … Continue reading

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314 New tears for an old death

How the heart holds old hurts, remembers the last kiss on his forehead, the final farewell. Dads ashes, poured off the old diving rock where he taught me, where he caught me in his arms, disolving in the sea. Even … Continue reading

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313 Intelligent design.

Who taught the black capped chickadee to eat the sunflower seed? To peck along the gray stripped shell, extract the meal, to munch it well? How did the first one learn that trick , then pass it on to her … Continue reading

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312 With regrets

If only we had never sinned so I might, as Adam before the apple, say, “Morning, Father! How are you today?” And hear Him answer, not “Have you considered my servant, Job?” or, “Saul! Saul! Why are you persecuting Me?” … Continue reading

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311 Saints work

Secret saints surround us, hidden well among the human camo concealing them. Among wet backs harvesting grapes. Dodging traffic on city streets. Sitting in silent solitude in a nursing home. Rocking on a Savannah porch, wreathed in wisteria. At sea, … Continue reading

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310 I.C.U. Super Bowl night.

A wet, gray Super Bowl Sunday Two great teams face each other across the bloody line. May the best survive. I sit on a hard chair in ICU Room 204. My love sleeps on her breathing bed. She dozes, wakes, … Continue reading

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309 Silent Belle

What would I do if my beautiful silver belle, my wife, who, if I can make her laugh, I’ve justified my life for, at least, that day or eternity, could no longer, because of some grotesque surgical gaff, laugh? The … Continue reading

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