Imprints
At the edge of sleep, Just as Simon’s paw reaches under the covers for my cheek, I wake at home. The corner of North Ash and Earl, in McPherson. The brick bungalow that my dad…
Category: Advancing Years
In Memoriam
I am what time, circumstance, history, have made of me, certainly, but I am, also, much more than that.So are we all. James Baldwin I once read obits more carefully, for the stories they told….
Wanting
This early spring, I stretched to the far side of my memory, Stalking riches: the pure gold of so many moments that life has given me; The uncanny, dazzling opportunities that I never saw coming…
The Last Library
Don’t count them out. Or think them made redundant by Google. They are damn pure magic. Portals into time travel. Archetypes of standing stone circles, temples, pantheons of all the gods we’ve worshipped over time….
Birds of a Feather
Yesterday, I stood and watched a magpie winkling bites from the suet feeder Which hangs off my porch rail–made fetching by a tin beak, tail, painted wings, and the wire feet of a northern flicker….
The Competition
No one talks about it. The topic being too close to home. A guilty secret. But, I bet, if you’re over 65 you know . . . That we are racing each other away from…
I Learned This Year . . .
More about growing old and navigating the world. I am 75. And tentative, slow on steps, unsteady on rocky ground. More so after a silly, spectacular sprawl in my living room last spring. The perfect…