Holy Prayers from Rocking Chairs

We sit quietly in the near-dark room. Wood spindles hug hips and back, bare feet touch soft fawn-colored carpet, worn wooden armrests cradle elbows and arms filled with the weight and warmth of her. Feet push gently against the soft carpet, silence broken by the creaking voice of the old rocking chair. Voice speaking from…

Read More

A Sweet and Smelly Spectrum

Sitting at my desk, I sense a presence sidle up beside me.

Read More

Quieting my Life

Be quiet. Shut up! Shhhh. Stop talking! Hands over ears, I can’t hear you. La, la, la.

Read More