Gift at Low Tide

Palms waved on Palm Sunday, fronds rattling, applause in the wind. I walked hand-in-hand with my firstborn toward our abandoned umbrella, its fringe fluttering near the shoreline. Bare feet shuffled over sandy cobblestone, felt the grit, the heat. I clicked my tongue...

Starfields: A Song for Epiphany

The night sky was free of clouds The village fields held no fire The people sang their pain out loud There they danced and never tired Off the map and through the mountains I stumbled on that place And found a harvest ripe with stars In the fields of outer space He...