• Our Boys

    Our Boys

    Our boys looked gallant in their black and golden uniforms, we all agreed.

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  • Bird Flu

    Bird Flu

    As the party murmured and twinkled gently through the afternoon, Franny sat, stiff, on the porch swing watching clouds clog the early-summer sky. She must’ve dozed off when the sky was only half-stuffed with the harmless, fluffy sort of cloud, and was startled awake when the first fat raindrop hit her exposed forearm.

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  • All Insects Matter

    All Insects Matter

    I decided to gingerly place a few dead earwigs and hawk mosquitos in some of the old, saggy, sticky cradles

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  • On Marriage, And Marilyn, And 50 Years, And Infinity

    On Marriage, And Marilyn, And 50 Years, And Infinity

    As if two companions suddenly looked down and found that not only have they become complementary and twinned, but they are conjoined.

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  • Grace

    Grace

    It’s grace that sustains this plant, keeps it in my study up against a window that frames the neighbor’s hemlock and the occasional winter sunset.

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  • Laughing to Death

    Laughing to Death

    Ficus lyrata, the fiddle-leaf fig, is one cheeky sonofabitch, a real bastard of a plant. He bends towards Seinfeld, as if the sun, yet turns away from Friends, as if under threat of wilting.

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