On Lincoln Street I sat... book open, heart open, summer sun leaning through the window, time thick as molasses in a jar.
A Vigil for My Father We keep watch so love has company in the dark. West on I-88 I. Westbound West on I-88, the hills lean close, fog stitched along their backs like something unfinished.
Ozone blues and the hands that tried. That old Zenith sat like a dark-faced preacher, its back peeled open - a small cathedral of wire and light.
A remembrance at Eldridge Park in Elmira, NY At the edge of the hills, where the air holds the scent of mown grass and river wind, a diamond-shaped field gathers the last of the sun. Dad laces his cleats,