Sunrises matter. They smooth the edges and let us know that the previous day should be continued or forgotten. They tell us to take care of ourselves and those around us, especially those around us. And in the silence of the quietest hour, they give us hope. So much depends on a decent sunrise.
Moose rose from his stool in Mother’s Saloon at last call and tossed four twenties on the bar, not knowing how much he owed and not caring. He strolled out the front door and onto Ocean Beach. He peeled off his t-shirt and tossed it in the sand, then lumbered toward the water in his shorts and sandals. Thirty feet from the shoreline, he laid down, inhaled the salty night
Karen was down to 100 pounds. She wore long sleeve shirts to work to hide the marks on her arms. It had gotten so bad that one day, her boss pulled her aside and said, “Karen, do we need to talk?” ”Don’t, Ben. Life just sucks right now, you know? I’ll handle it.” And life did suck. She was working a dead-end job with no real prospects. She had lost patience
The Greenbush Senior Citizens’ monthly meeting is not so much a meeting as a dialogue on the decrepitudes of the absent. A dismal state in all cases. A state no one wishes to belong to and yet, as the self-satisfied woman at the helm of the podium croaks into the microphone, we all will someday. I’d hoped to be first on the agenda, before the minutes of last month’s meeting,
I like to stand outside in the winter night, a glass of gin in my hand, and watch the sky go by above me, half moon a white lemon with its companion star, the star two stars, then one if I concentrate while the clouds veil and unveil it all, and my focus shifts between them and the sumac branch, furry and bare, and the sky, never the same from
The Aim Was Song Before man came to blow it right The wind once blew itself untaught, And did its loudest day and night In any rough place where it caught. Man came to tell it what was wrong: It hadn’t found the place to blow; It blew too hard - the aim was song. And listen - how it ought to go! He took a little in his
