Sometimes fuzzy, often incriminating, always entertaining – all hail the pocket paparazzi and a very random documentary of the last 18 months.
Beer station antics, Yangon… 204 more words
I learned these strangers and their families
wandering and returning.
We once outraced a hail storm pulling
the bleaching laundry off the southern terrace.
One day at table our older son surprised… 26 more words
This moment yearning and thoughtful, sitting alone, It seems to me there are other men in other lands, yearning and thoughtful; It seems to me I can look over and behold them in Prussia, Italy, France, Spain—or far, far away, in China, or in Russia or India—talking other dialects; And it seems to me, if I could know those men, I should become attached to them, as I do to men in my own lands. 60 more words
“Why, who are you afraid of?” said Peter. “There’s no one here but ourselves.”
“There are the trees,” said the Beaver. “They’re always listening.”