Old Oak

dark green moss and grey lichen adorn branches above a slow river bend just below the inn’s balcony symbiotic growth much younger than the the curvy white oak bending like ancient script — pointy leaves spreading into a canopy to catch the sun — its shadow protects Boysenberry vines and bugs for the birds to … Continue reading Old Oak

Old Sam

My wife . . . Hazel . . . See? She doesn’t stir from her bed. See . . . the full green moon? She sees the shine in his eye, what now? I think of Old Sam peering up at the full green moon. Standing in his bed clothes facing the clear sky over … Continue reading Old Sam