Lost in the light
of a laundry
room,
clean
air
invites me
into morning.
I sit
and hear the sounds
of whirling,
washing
and with it
I am
at peace.
My husband's nose changed first—a nearly imperceptible spot-the-difference puzzle on a face I'd known for twenty-two years. Through our kitchen's bay windows, the morning sunlight highlighted his ... [+]
Out in the world, no one sleeps. No one, no one.
No one sleeps.
—Federico García Lorca, "Sleepless City (Brooklyn Bridge Nocturne)"
Madrid 2007. Sometime after 3 am. In six hours, I'll be
...
[+]
Some Bright Spark tells Crazy James the dog will make his fortune. Says the mutt can smell buried treasure like a pig snuffling out truffles. Of course, James doesn't know the first thing about ... [+]
