At the dawn of day, while yet the dark of dying night redacts our view, I huddle in the chair by a flickering fire, coffee cup warm on my fingers. The one hand cradling, the other cupped to receive, my heart turns to prayer. I worship; I confess; I give thanks; I ask, withholding nothing. […]

I admit it:  I don’t want to go. Here I sit at my computer, working, checking things off of my list.  More, I strike them through with satisfaction.  Those lines, they could be the slashed out edges of me, the angles of my shoulders, the sharp bones of my cheeks.  Sometimes I mark my identity […]

I don’t know how we accomplish anything without each other. The day drifts away and we fall into order at the table, stamps and labels and letters in thick stacks in front of us, ropey veins like roots—more pronounced by the passing of years—rising from the backs of our moving hands.  You’d know we belonged […]