Staring into my dog Mulder's dark, loving eyes and seeing that I mean as much to him, as he does to me.
- Tom Sniegoski
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words are birds that arrive with books and spring they love clouds the wind and trees some words are messengers that come from far away from…
In winter all the singing is in the tops of the trees where the wind-bird with its white eyes shoves and pushes among the branches. Like any…
At the market today, I look for Piñata apples, their soft-blush-yellow. My husband brought them home last week, made me guess at the name of this new…