Moonlight Sonata

  I stand in the garden watching a crescent moon hover above the tips of the fir trees.  The thrushes surge in their singing as they do at that twilight hour and the newly arrived swallows swirl about the eves. Music drifts out an open window and I realize it is my son playing piano. …

Let Me Confess

I heard the buzzing like a crying child or a siren in the night. A wail or a scream. Except it was a house fly and I was brushing my teeth. But I knew it was the sound of struggle. The sound of a fly battling a spider. Have you heard it? The distress call…

Drift

Summer and the day drifts and shifts away. Like clouds. Shape of a rooster or whale. Shaded patterns along grasses. Branches that bend against sky. Or leaves. Dappled.  There are shouts of a man and the bark of a dog.  Voice of an owl calling,  in an evening,  as the day slips, as you study…