Change

Our sparrows did not return this year. Their little brown house is empty and still. Only the wind shakes it now. Last year at this time they were busy caring for their young. She, flying off to find food, and he, standing guard outside, darting off when she returned. I wonder about them, the generations … More Change

Why…

The seats were metal then, cold even in summer. We didn’t need a push—we swung, pumped our legs until the sun seemed close enough to singe, until our lungs swelled fat with breath. The ground beneath us could have killed, but didn’t—we pumped and swung until it disappeared, until the iron chains we clung to … More Why…

Notice

So, COVID-19. It’s enough to drive us out of our heads. I fully appreciate the need for hand sanitizer and soap and wipes and alcohol and hydrogen peroxide and pasta and rice and canned tuna and toilet tissue and and and… We need to stock up, the experts have said, and I’ve taken them as … More Notice