The delta dawn is always different with thechanging tide of seasons. The early purpled lightbecomes a red that slowly scrubs the sununtil the skies are clear white.When the storms abate — or maybethey just wait …
-For S. They had promised us a meteor shower, but all we saw were lightning bugs. Down the street, you could hear the lowing and occasional roars of livestock, the bulls and broncos that had …
A poem, Epiphany 2022 I have begun to wonder if we have not found God because we think we do not have time to gaze at the stars. We could follow them if we tried, …
I’ve been in the world for thirty years, And I must have traveled a million miles. Walked by rivers where the green grass grows thick, And entered the frontier where the red dust rises. Purified …
The poem, some say, has been given to us for times when prose cannot express the heart. It’s an art form that has been used to elevate, to devastate, and to strike mood. It can …
i look to the god of my fears, and i do not bow, because that god is too small to have created the giant yew, or the stars or the galaxies of microbes that populate …
Every year in the fall, I teach a class called Art in Culture. The class is for non-art majors and as part of our core curriculum, it seeks to engage how art impacts and reflects …