I hope I get her agates when she dies. Maybe not her entire collection, for I don’t want to appear greedy. Even one amber agate to soften the excruciating loss of her. I imagine cradling it. Letting the essence of her wash over me. She would laugh, “There is no agate door to me onceContinue reading “Agates”
What would I be bold enough to tell death if I invited him to join me for a chat over a cup of warm peppermint tea?
Annie was everything I didn’t want in a dog, yet everything I needed. But my story doesn’t start with Annie. It starts with Chocolate, a lab shepherd, who also happened to be the best dog ever. I found him from a flyer pinned to a bulletin board at the market with the word “Puppies!” in bold across the top. There wasContinue reading “Love, Loss and Puppy Dogs”
These hands with veins like aged snakes and wrinkles gray are getting old But once these hands were small and smooth and held a father’s hand. These hands have blocked the blows of man and faith that tried to confine. But the vastness in these hands cannot be caged. These hands have let go untilContinue reading “These Hands”