the door is nothing,
the latch a make-believer;
fear is a cold ghost
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Me, directing Oz while comforting Toto In 1999, my two oldest children were 7 and 5 and would accompany me to the grand Fuller Hall aud... -
we can wing, you can bring your lover, to hop across delicate stones toward those restful trees. thoughtful walks and quiet wantin... -
in a large bowl, dissolve yeast and 1/2 teaspoon sugar in warm water; let stand until bubbles form on surface. infinite dreams begin ... -
i'd been scolded by an ancient-faced teacher: how was it i was always running around the playground untied, i was apt to trip and g...
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Sitting next to Maren is highly coveted in our home, and the privilege to do so can be as treacherous to my children as it once was for tho...
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hope from something strung - thin lines laid between thin dreams in a rectangle - something not solid but rather soft, forgiving, ... -
it only takes a second, maybe after asking them to get ready for supper, which they'd rather not do, and they spike a rad... -
what is he to be? what is he now to be, here? but not here with me? maybe kingmaker, reasonable whisperer in the ears of fate? ... -
want for it wild, the wind in your brow, to send you ‘cross the waves of your long-past stars. i think i’ll not take that kiss now, but rath...
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i return to my dead, disagreeable. no cloud is the same as it was, even though i wish they would be. or at least the best ones, the flame-...
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