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The Homecoming
The royal robes of winter’s night tightly bind me in its blue-black grip; and shadow of majestic mountains kneel on the banks of frozen rivers, its cracked ice, like braided lace hemming the barren...
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My Pagoda
In my next incarnation, I will dwell in a house with a roof that curls like a smile. Nestled in a flush of empurpled trees and luminous clouds - paths winding up the velvety-green mountains and...
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The Poppies of Castelluccio
©Photo Courtesy of Hardik Gohil* in Castelluccio, where Heaven’s angels tread through fields of autumn sweetly dressed in red. kissed by Italian winds, inflamed poppies dance swaying gently where...
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Summer Moonshine
I remember this story my daddy told, when he was a young man – most of his life he was a lay minister in the Baptist church down Brevard way; but when he was a young man he was fairly rough and...
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Mountain Hogs
Why, they would sleep, them hogs, would stay right back in them mountains and under cliffs and brambles and things. But these old timers, my grandpa and my uncles, would be whoopn’ and shoutin’ to the...
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