pastoral

    this has become one of my go-to places when I walk it’s an equestrian center not far from my home acres of pasture land that sits up on a hill surrounded by apple orchards wandering around here I always feel like I’m in the countryside somewhere in Ireland or on the Moors of England especially on a foggy day such as this…

our winter of discontent

As I’m sitting here going through some old photos I can hear the wind howling outside an Arctic blast of air is due to hit tonight and it reminded me that it is indeed Winter in New England however, I’m not going to complain as we have had it pretty easy thus far unlike the Winter of 2010/2011 when it seemed to snow just…

in a small town

                              somewhere anywhere EMILY: “Does anyone ever realize life while they live it…every, every minute?” STAGE MANAGER: “No. Saints and poets maybe…they do some.” “Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover’s Corners… Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking… and Mama’s sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths…and…

where memories linger

My brother Aaron swung me high and hard Toward tops of trees, until I almost flew Into the blue of sky above our yard. I peaked, then roller-coasted down and through My squeals that sprinkled on the distant ground. I tilted, lurched, then fought to grab the rope And stop my fall. The tire spun around With wild abandon. I could only hope That…

forgotten

      /> if only these walls could talk