Zooplankton, copepods, krill, fish larvae, flea-sized individuals in stealth vertical migration species by species rise and sink in tides of darkness and light, prey of octopus and lantern fish, these sea butterflies and lovely blue bituminesent beings.

Hope, that feathery thing, has been plucked bare. Why then, do I still dress, buy groceries, pay bills, and fret over a friend’s nervous heart, or an old dog’s weak legs, clear her path, feed her Cheerios? Why praise green tomatoes on the vine, savor morning coffee and applaud the musicality of words, amazed as…

Its toothy paper thirsty for ink, each book has a spine, a voice. Someone says yes and someone cuts paper. Other hands make a cover, that door with no lock in the rectangle where words party, complain, lie and collude. In any book, friend or foe, I scrabble through it in search of answers, comfort,…

Memoir as mélange, a feast for the curious, the author on a platter, and the readers nibble, nibble, chew, and spit out what is bland or overdone. Serving up such nourishment starves both clock and calendar. When the menu offers over-chewed and swallowed pap no cheer for the chef, no tip for the server.

cuts me off at the intersection, so I’m close to him now, but he’s stuck between me and a belching big truck. Bent on speed, he rides his brakes, and I wonder if someone he knows might be hurt and needs him now. He makes a sharp left turn, and as I go where I…