Last night I slow-danced with an ash tree—
the roughness of his arms stroking my bare skin
and leafy kisses covering my breasts. 125 more words
Excuse me, Sir–do you have the time?
It’s time to watch the bees that ravish stems of lavender,
to listen to the cluck of quail, the song of wrens. 159 more words
Around the World in 70 Years
A Life’s Travelogue in Haibun
Life has taken me on quite a journey.
Growing up in California in the 40’s and 50’s, when the Los Angeles area still had rural areas, was idyllic—though, no doubt, my therapist years ago nailed it when he told me it was all part of the family myth. 647 more words