The Ferryman Waits

Not all who wait at the threshold mean to enter. Some wait for you to step out. Fog thickens - congeals. Dread does the same when it finds a place to stay. Only then do I notice the lake breathing again,

At Dunn Field, Summer Nights

Shirley Bassey Would Be So Disappointed

West Egg on Lincoln Street

I was fourteen, cross-legged on the bed, a paperback widening the space between my hands as evening slid across the walls, that uncertain hour when ordinary things begin to glow at the edges.