Gardening with JD Life is like a rose, he says, unfurling and unpredictable, a transformation. Even death comes beautifully, dried petals and cinnamon in an antique crystal bowl. That’s enough, I say, you’ve gone too far this time, but he’s... Continue Reading →
Category 4 1. I heard the storm pass right over my house, he said, I was in the bathtub, unaware of sirens and weather reports, pronouncements of doom relayed by pretty television people. I heard someone crying, I’m sure of... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 