Moth on the Rocks
a moth at the mass all broken and fluttering finds its way home – alleluia against stone dedicated to its unmoved mover. the moth all dead remains with t...
Tag: death
Past the Stile of Stars (Elegy for Mary Oliver)
Midsummer afternoon – airy aisles weave and thread through the plum trees. Pen in hand, I walk the lawn through an errant sprinkler, the blue sky so vacan...