What Happens Next? You Asked Me That Night

As I knelt by your head, held your long fingers and dripped the morphine under your tongue. When you are ready, follow the light. But later I wished I had asked him instead: Where are you now, my Father, my friend?    Are you an elder in opiate dreams, with prayers like ghosts hovering over your bed?   Are… Continue reading What Happens Next? You Asked Me That Night

Teach Your Children Well

Make sure they find mica in the ground— pinch the rock skin peeled and browned, the waxy, starry silicate layered like staircases in granite.   Make certain they sample honeysuckle that grips a country fence, and they suck all the nectar from the hair-thin stopper pulled from inside, a party popper.   Make sure they… Continue reading Teach Your Children Well