Love doesn't just sit there, like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; remade all the time, made new.
[Ursula K. LeGuin]
Thursday, August 22, 2013
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Heirloom
The market on the eastern slope surveys A place in Minnesota that I love: Looks past the barns, past where the tire swing sways, And the far...
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What was the subconscious impulse that prompted the circuits in my skull to begin pulsating to the nauseatingly cheesy rhythm of I'll b...
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"Isn't it odd how much fatter a book gets when you've read it several times?" Mo had said..."As if something were le...
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It's already mid-June, and here I am in Hudsonville (the library--my oldest, dearest haunt), bereft of full time employment, my life a s...