A Brief For The Defense

Early springtime in Philadelphia and it rains. Flat and dour liquid pewter. (experience suggests some nostalgia lurks within, a thread to yo...

Picking up sticks in the drizzle. An odd job. Heavier stuff, precipitate. slant sheet slate. Listening to the rain tattle on tin Whispering ...

Hass speaks so plainly of love, of love. It is, of course, the gift of experience, the language of time, and age. Wisdom, we might call such...

Lolling in a boat in the middle of a lake. No wind so the water is still, painted with light. The falling sky reflected back onto itself. No...

Meander is a technical term for the path a stream follows from its headwater to its terminus. Any body of water that flows will, at some tim...

Am I happy? Am I verging on dissolution? Where is the difference? (the impermanence of the personal pronoun) ~ We are entombed, hurtling. Cy...