Bluebonnet Road

Though I have snagged my shirt on bits of this barbed wire day, and herded my thoughts into a narrow pasture where no birds sing, perhaps I can yet reach that barefoot feeling thought reserved for children who spend their smiling hours counting skips of rocks in summer streams. I will dream my way to […]

Leaving Papa

Something in the gaze of ten thousand blackbirds lays the mighty forest bare, & the woodsman cannot even remember the names of his children who are running towards the nearest road with thorns in their hands. They shout in a broken tongue, sense that time is either unwinding or trying to reinvent itself. They hear […]