It’s 1965. I’m 6 years old. It’s Good Friday. What I know: There will be fish for dinner. Again. Yuck. We...
Words we fall back on
With age comes wisdom, right? - though I suppose foolishness finds its home even in the graying crowd. Deepening...
Poetry Friday: Color and Light
This is my cheat week... I'm double-dipping and linking Poetry Friday to my Spiritual Thursday... (warning: it's a bit...