October in Stockbridge
A New England reflection We came where Berkshire whispers dwell, To walk the streets where silence fell On painted doors and windowpanes, Where autumn’s breath through white walls strains. The maples blushed, the sky was clean - A burnished blue, October’s sheen - The kind of day New England keeps To dream on when the winter sleeps. The Steady One, with gentle pace, Moved like a hush through time and place. She paused for blooms in window sills, And let her wonder take the hills. We reached the Inn - the Lion’s heart, Whitewashed and storied, …
A Fireside Carol
The wind outside begins to wail, a snowstorm rattles roof and rail. But here within, all calm and clear, I sit beside the fire’s cheer. My beagle curls up at my feet, his steady breath, a rhythmic beat. The flames dance low in amber light, against the hush of winter’s night. With A Christmas Carol in my hand, I drift through Scrooge’s ghostly land - past Marley’s chains and Tiny Tim, each page a world, both bright and grim. Outside, the world is lost in white, but in this room, the heart feels light. No finer joy could I have planned than Dic…
Quarter Nights & Greyhound Dreams - 1986
1986 was a year of rust - and prayer. I worked two jobs, three jobs, six days, seven if the Lord looked the other way. Didn’t rest, didn’t dream, just kept on like a broke-down Buick with a cough in its soul. That old '63 LeSabre - Blue as my mood, fading like hope - her grandma gave it, God bless her - and we rode it on fumes, on faith, on three dollars of gas at a time. Three bucks. You hear me? That’s a couple gallons and some change, back when gas still showed mercy. We rolled slow, so the needle stayed up, and the money didn’t run out…
