The cat knocked the plastic owl off the patio pot and its head separated from the body and rolled away, then lay in plain sight with the rain coming down, too hard to fix. And in the morning I found… Read More ›
writing with feeling
Just like the landscape
In the way other people’s minds probably do, mine moved along a band of topics in the middle of the night like radio stations or a wheel at the fair, a big arrow that stops and settles. That’s how it… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 