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There are leaves and dead limbs at my feet. I can see my feet… They are mine aren’t they? We have come all this way, slogged t..

I envy those folks who lived when Flappers flapped and Jazz had just learned to Jive. They were there for Art Deco, whose smooth ele..

In the hot spring, when the sap rises to make blooms open their golden thighs for the dry juice of pollen carried on the tongues of..

AMARILLO At six o’clock the road turned bare as we rode through Tennessee. From Nashville to Memphis is a long, dark stretch of ..

When we were young and smooth we did the things required of us to cut our network of brainways, the paths our thoughts would forever follow..

AT LAST On my veranda I watch beads of sweat slide down the glass of ale I use to get over something I’m not sure of, perhap..

It was just another day. The heat was as thick as the cloud of dust my car kicked up on the dirt road to my friend’s house, an oasis ..

By the goldfish pond at the end of the walk, a spider builds a snare for thirsty prey in the overhanging sage and rosemary, a dead..

My philosophy professor said, “The air in ancient Greece was so clean and clear that people could see tiny details of distant moun..

memoir