Wounds

"Slow moves the scarlet lamp of day over the rusty mounds, slow from the furied orange of trees leaves whisper to the ground. Like dying fire the night creeps in, taking the hillsides under cloak; the..."

"My loss of you will be a minor thing, unnoticing, the seasons yet will flow continue waltzing proud with beauty through the myriad months they know, and still will seeds long since been sown, give bi..."

"Poet, a risky occupation - baring your heart, a curtain drawn for a play. A tap dance, sometimes without music - just a phrase over and over only you can hear and that can drive you to the edge. A h..."

"A laborer stood at my door one day eager to sell the wood he'd cut and chopped himself.  I had answered the door unwillingly, not feeling well. He'd been here three weeks ago and I'd turned him away, ..."

"You would not know me if I walked aboutThe fields of your Vermont home.  We've not met,But you have built no walls to keep me out.Your woods might beckon me to enter, yetLike you, I'd only counter wi..."

"It began to snow the morning we lost Beth, as if God tossed white confetti in celebration for her arrival in heaven. The wind blew swift, and the air that rushed in the door with each neighbor who cam..."