Alone in a Silent Grove
Breath
of the muted voice, becoming quiet along the way, one
soft stream of air made softer still, by the
An Older Volume
Closed,
and older still in memory
than forgotten ideas and other points of departure, a book
waits behind the centuries,
Voices in the Grass:
Remembering Chaney Trail
I don’t recall the official history of the land, that portion of Angeles National Forest where I grew up
Airport:
On the Journey of Strangers
Although not a habitué of hotels and airports, I’ve passed through enough of them to reflect, to enjoy their
The Eames Chair and Optimism:
The American Aesthetic at Midcentury
From my childhood in the 70s, I recall the orange chairs of waiting rooms, plastic décor elements which seemed very