Dear Friends, I am listening to Christmas music. Why? To get myself more and more awake to the true meaning of Christmas. Maybe I’m...

How any poem is created is a mystery to me. How concrete (shape) poems like the three below happen is an even greater mystery. I had...

Rain had fallen for days. Puddles, all over the yard. The days had been dark and cold. I could feel it inside my body. It made me reflect...

Jessica, my mail carrier, beat me to the mailbox yesterday, so I’m taking Christmas cards into downtown Norfork, population 511. My...

I look at the shadows growing long in the yard. They come from a tall maple and our old ribbed house. There they lie on a hard yard like...

My mother left when I was 14. Daddy sat on the floor in a corner. He drank too much. But I had my six brothers and my five sisters. As...