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There once was a young flute who wanted nothing more than to hear the music it played. “It is not for you to hear,” said Father Flute,...

There once was a boy with a deck of cards in his hand and hope in his heart. He wanted to learn how to play. Any game would do—something...

There once was a streetlight at the edge of an old neighborhood where no one lived anymore. The houses had long been boarded up. The road...

IN FRONT OF THE LIBRARY   In front of the library, the willow leaves fall still.   No more whispers.   My heart speaks: “There is nothing...

Birds move, branch to branch, and there is bliss, and love, and freedom in the flutter of their wings— a joy the mind cannot comprehend....

Sit with me till the leaves brown and wilt above our heads,   without our ever knowing when the wind plucks them free.   Now, once more,...

Today is an exciting day. I published my first novel, The Great Beeshee , on Amazon KDP and it can be purchased now in paperback or...

Perry struck the keys with all he had left. The rhythm swelled through Inky’s, the little bar where he played every Friday. But tonight,...

Today’s the day. It’s seven o’clock, and I can see Dad’s black pickup truck kicking up dust along our street. The road is long and curved like an “L,” with tall oak trees lining the sides. He’s at the top of the L, but I can already hear the rickety engine sputtering. The sun is a burning red apple in the clear evening sky. The earth’s belly is full with spring rain. I dig my bare feet into the wet soil, standing atop the hill of our front yard, fingers wearing out the base