Monthly Archives: August 2011

Unkempt, with curly hair and chalk stains, he tilled my mind and–thus–groomed me.

Twelve American flags wave in the wind on the roof of the Citgo.

He threw a question into the air. It lingered and dropped fast, uncaught.

We cried. In the kitchen, an Avett Brothers song played: ‘I And Love And You.’

Swingsets and sunsets see each other’s plight. They nod and continue on.

Behind the pulpit, clad in black, he was a wick prepared to be lit.

Sometimes kangaroos need the cool of shade; sometimes I need solitude.