Before my father was my father or ever welcomed any of the 800 or so babies he helped swim into this slippery world, my mother’s hands would speak the universal language of … Continue reading →

seems depressed. His usual courting call ending in a rapid, repetitive note tuit-tuit-tuit-tuit-tuit-it-it-ititititit is now short, by more than half. He never arrives at the final flourish his pièce de résistance his pleading, staccato insistence for a mate tuit-tuit-tuit-tuit resigned … Continue reading →

While tempests burn the land, the sea, the skies and trees fall, raging through the charcoal-ed air with much to entertain, we turn our eyes the Gods of excess laugh, and let go care. We worship at the altar of … Continue reading →

the Cafe Castelo can was a cheerful canary-yellow with a wooden cover secured on the top and holes on each end to let the weather pass through it hung, turned up just a bit, on a forest-green shepherd’s hook which … Continue reading →

I spend fallow days sewing small repairs by hand working on old huipils, second-hand jackets cotton pulled loose by relentless movement my fingers ache pinching worn woven fabric vision blurs in the impassable needle’s eye I ask forgiveness and reach … Continue reading →