golden hour

My wife is taking pictures again, and the golden hour is upon us – in more ways than one, because at the height of summer it occurs immediately after the kids’ bedtime. She is roaming the acreage of my childhood read full post

peace (four poems)

rainplay

The pit-pat of rain
and little feet,
the splash of a puddle then
like liquid laughter, and
the storm is just another
plaything
to tiny toes.

artesian well

Perhaps
the hole will fill gradually,
as long-filtered rains seep down, … read full post

white space

am I willing
to do nothing
but wait?

to set aside
the notion that
I change things

that my words
change things

that my words
change me

cease striving
be still
know

that I am
only because You are
that … read full post