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Morning Offering
Morning’s first song, evening’s final call, winged creatures, colors painted into trees, starkly outlined or mere smudges, streaks of sapphire, orange bursts of breasts. Their songs, symphonic reeds, trills waking us at daybreak, our 5:00 a.m. alarm. Or...
Rainy Windy Day
I open my eyes and wonder what words await while the sound of raindrops landing on the porch bannister become more apparent. The open umbrella left to dry billows like a chest taking in air. I inhale, exhaling as the truck idling beside the sidewalk out front pulls...
Do You Hear?
“Did you hear?” Todd asked. “The birds are back.” We were having coffee in the space that has now become our home office. The lines between the two—work and home—have blurred beyond belief and I’m not experienced at this. Two days of working from home, I...