-
Continue reading →: A Christmas Card From Above: In Cursive
She Scotch-taped them as they arrived. The threshold couldn’t hold them all. Between the living room and kitchen the Christmas cards hung open like parted lips. Postal employees carried double heavy loads then. Stamps were less than a dime and tongues licked each one. They arrived all through December.…
-
Continue reading →: Who’s Side Are You On?
We picked sides decades ago. No asking of preference. We climbed in. Four a.m., this morning after the end of the world, I raised my arm over your head like a first date clue. You came close and rested your temple on my collar bone. You wished our…
-
Continue reading →: Siloam. We can’t see through the tears. Prayer poem for those affected in Conneticut.
Siloam Lay these tears over each other. Let them roll and fall on down like a five year old. May they collect and form a pool of Siloam while we wait for angels to stir. Lay these tears over each other. Let them magnify our…
-
Continue reading →: Matron’s Heart: Christmas Afterglow at My Mom’s
My mother sat quietly in the circle, less and less words each year but more and more smiles and twinkles from her eyes. Laura, my daughter, came with me to take a spot in the circle. She got it. She got the time line and the echo to Christmases past.…
-
Continue reading →: Christmas In 20/20 Hindsight. Our House Number Was 2020 and How Grand It Was.
Christmas Morning at 20/20 Grand The house sat at the dead end of a street jammed with ten kids. My mom could barely lace up the shoe. Yet she worked hard to make this time of year special. My wife has a tinge of sadness when I tell her…
-
Continue reading →: Callahan’s Nine Revisited. Harry Christmas!
On Dashing, On Damsel, On Prankster, and Vixen, On Vomit, On Stupid, On Donetello, and Blitzkrieg… But do you recall the most famous second string reindeer of all? Well, do ya …. punk?
-
Continue reading →: Come Any Other Way.
Oh God, come any other way, but not as a child. Come in a space ship so we can call you alien, and just a figment. Wash up on shore as a castaway, an unknown, scraggly and salt soaked. Walk into town as a vagabond so we…
-
Continue reading →: Frogger or Blogger?
Years ago in the arcade era, not arcane, arcade, there was a game called Frogger. In the game you were represented by a green leaper on the side of a multiple-lane highway. It looked like Los Angeles rush hour traffic going full-out on both sides. The goal was to make…
-
Continue reading →: Thanksgiving 2011…Last Years Memories.
The folding table still stands with the acorn-autumn print under half consumed soda cans left like Stonehenge. The horseshoe shaped counter lies it wait for a Ferrier to come and scrape off the travails of a Thanksgiving feast. I am a little afraid of picking through the casserole and sweet…
-
Continue reading →: Just a Poultry Encounter. Part Three of Three. Talking Turkey.
Thom continued to tell of his dream… His head and neck then disappeared and a translucent uncle Thommy floated above the Hubble family table. He hovered over grandpa’s comb over, Lauren’s pigtails, Kelsey’s cornrows, and grandma’s poofy grey arrangement. He saw the horn of plenty and the expanded double leaf…
Gerald the Writer 