Foggy morning Crow conversations I try joining in But end up coughing

I sat with my Uncle all day the day he died. That was Saturday, February 1, 1992. These poems greeted me when I brought his ashes home to...

No one is coming, Mother. It is a long way up the hill to visit her. I don't know how many times I have made the trip in my mind....

To whom it may concern. I betrayed you. It was never my intention but that does not change the past. Lives overlap. You entered mine a...

Tonight is the 27th anniversary of my mother's death. That day I memorized the high, broken white clouds glaring from the ice bl...

Couldn't sleep. Too many ideas running around my head. So I got up, made a cup of cinnamon tea and dinked around on the synthesizer for ...