A sidewalk begins to spot, then the odor of wet canvas comes, and peat. Oils on the surfaces of rocks are released. Papers, piled near window sills or screens,…
In “the excitement of firing” one young soldier on the roof of No. 25 Northumberland Road knocked himself unconscious with the butt of his own rifle, while his comrade,…
At times we believe we have been wronged, so perfectly and bankrupted, that someone must come to redress us and does so— a stranger appearing who reveals an…
It’s still there. So are my dead parents in their bathing suits and white terrycloth robes, trundling their beach bags, chairs, and umbrellas. The path connects woods to river,…
I have been reading your better servant George Herbert again, and I’m trying to turn my day into prayer, praying as the toast rises with the toaster’s tinny bell…