cliff-song
This song migrated from her playlist to mine, like a wish-feathered feeling she owns…
This song migrated from her playlist to mine, like a wish-feathered feeling she owns…
a waking reflection…
Crucial for creativity…
We’ve all, at some well-remembered time in our lives, had a heart condition that came close to killing us…
Are clouds good for skipping stones? I’d like to know…
The children…called him “Tristeza del Padre.”
I have exactly three cardboard boxes that smell of musty rental storage.
My heart abruptly, but softly, suggests, “Tell her.”
Across my forty years, I’ve been wrong aplenty.
The past is a foreign country…
Regardless of what, in whom or how you believe, faith is conceptually necessary.
The path through fatherhood may look like a ball of knotted yarn…
They don’t look the same, taste the same or smell the same…completely, unanimously, inarguably different…
Perhaps tomorrow. Or in my fifties. Maybe when I’m one-hundred-and-twelve…
…it’s okay for my heart to have a few irreconcilable differences with my mind…