The sea and I do not understand each other.

There is nothing natural about walking off a cliff backwards.

It’s Mothers Day, and the kitchen is a chaotic symphony of activity

To an outsider, life in Spring City looked idyllic.

It’s hard to believe that photography ever caught on.

I hear each breath come Like a whisper

You are the opposite of raindrops.

If there ever was a day When our roots did not tangle together

There are cranes warbling in the fen today. A sedge that sings dissonantly

The house still stands On East Union Street.