I Cast My Vote
I choose prayer over despair.
A Farm Was Born
Alchemy of Words
Words.
Sometimes they harden, wedge in the tip of the pen.
Broad Daylight: Pinned
A deeper breathe against the pressure, you feel the warmth as you exhale. Nothing more to do but wait for someone—anyone—to find you.
I’m pinned. I just wanted to be free.
Good and Bad
It happened so fast it’s impossible to draw the line between good and bad.
Every November Melancholy
As sunlight diminishes for the next 47 days, I hope you find the words, the moments with company, and enough light to hold you through the melancholy that comes, because, every November, melancholy comes.
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