Another lonely Mother’s Day
The wind is crowded with hungry ghosts tonight. Sitting at my kitchen table, I warm my hands on a mug of hot coffee. My eyes cut to the mantle, to the photo, where your laughter was once caught like a passing train. …
Grandparents Denied Access to their Grandchildren
The wind is crowded with hungry ghosts tonight. Sitting at my kitchen table, I warm my hands on a mug of hot coffee. My eyes cut to the mantle, to the photo, where your laughter was once caught like a passing train. …
Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comes Whereon our Savior’s birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long. And then, they say, no spirit dare abroad, The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike, No fairy takes nor witch hath power…