and by those “gotcha” nets in which you grab one more villain you named as such, your children learn…

we must hold our babies and grow them right

until we all say: how we have failed this son, and –    oh! how many times his feelings...

some ancient teachings suppose that the mind is spherical. the sphere of being is one we practice together often,…

That bully and brawn waiving fists with fortitude
you knew him once
with creamy fresh flesh
Oh …and his enchanting toddling steps
those…

My garden rich
no fruit yet come
my eyes so tearful
i can hardly see the sun
shine.
my hands fall empty
my face at…

  “I have to do this,” I repeat to myself as I merge into a stream of commuters scrambling...

There is still never, nothing, worth keeping, if it would keep me from you.

I hollow and hallow all my self in over-flows of tones. I sing for my children. I sing for…