Lesser Voices
April 15, 2018[…] 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 […]
[…] 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 […]
One of the kids was sick, so his ex came over. “How are you doing?” she said. (That’s what she always said.)
With fortune’s damned quarreling smile, the neighbors complain
I had wanted your wife to be born to the graces, elegantly muted in dove-gray and gloves, to take tea from fine china, walk perfumed in silk.