The colors mirror my insides this time of year, the muted tones and dampened smiles The earth settling in, parts of it fallen to repose in piles and patterns, Wisps of wood fire smoke: the crackle in the leaves, the… Read More ›
Robert Frost
Is God An Apple?
I saw a ladder leaned against an apple tree today, and was reminded of a paper I wrote in high school on Robert Frost’s poem “After Apple Picking.” It was back in the day when we were required to hand-write… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 