Navel
April 16, 2018I drive by a red farmhouse in the setting sun. Orange morning darts through rippled glass. High-glossed linoleum
I drive by a red farmhouse in the setting sun. Orange morning darts through rippled glass. High-glossed linoleum
Ever since the homestead days, when you, The eldest, baked the bread for barefoot boys Flushed from the corn for lunch, the care we knew Was testimony of your oaken poise.
While the organist pumped “Let Us All Press on in the Work of the Lord,” and the chorister napped her arms like a whooping crane, and some sat there
[…] Just baby girl A failed mother’s hope So When two soldiers forced their way I laughed their search of raftered bed Until a final blindness Swept her from arms to floor Where dream spilled […]
Spring sneaked into town while court convened. One noon, I walk from my office to my old neighborhood and find it well-kept. The ditch I’d hurtle galloping home from school has been curbed and guttered.
Here, rock has a soft face and wind moves above like spirit. I listen down the long slant of switchback trails, steps carved where red rock accordions through the canyon.
Dialogue, 23.4 (Winter 1990): 55–93 The odyssey of Ferguson is a quest for religious certitude through archaeological evidences, an attempt at scholarly verification of theological claims. Early in his career, Thomas Stuart Ferguson was instrumental […]
Sitting naked by the pool I can see many more trees than the two very tall ones visible from my kitchen window as shadows in the early morning. If
[…] is done the chance of happening. Then the heart of not figuring a way back just happens again in the still world like rain running the skies and green becoming the hand of the sun.
[…] And wish others would not look down On my people. For the white man took our land. Questing for gold and ground, They placed us […]