Craftsman in the River
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A fluttering leaf, Tossed by fleeting gusts, Passive in each gale, I am not. A rock, fixed and unyielding, Cold, untouchable, Unbreathing, Not me. Instead, fluid and free,…
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No Regrets in the River
Let it go, let it go! Little did I know when seven-year old Gracie sang with her Elsa doll in our living room…in the car…on her way to bed…that she…
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It was 4:30 a.m. and two days before Thanksgiving at Jane Phillips Medical Center. Fluorescent lights blazed like eternal daylight on the ceiling of the labor room. The room’s once…
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