At the Hour of Milk When the barn lit up for the very first time the cows in their stanchions...
Education … Fortunate Fields—like those of old Sought in the Atlantic Main, why should they be A history only of...
Seems like every time you turn around, they’re carting somebody else out to die. Somebody takes a stroke or a...
The siren went off about a half mile from town. You could set your watch by it. Some people did,...
I awake to find Lena no longer in bed beside me. I search for her everywhere, bathroom, kitchen, living and...
Field Notes from an Old Chair Well, they’ve come, these early crews though it’s only March, which in Michigan means...
BROTHER, CAN YOU SPARE A DIME? My grandfather always said the worst thing about the Depression was when a man...
Agata drove along the flat scrub of the west valley. Clouds a marvel of grey, gold, and pink. She pulled...
Heat and steamy breath from big-eyed young calves crammed into the stone outhouse, sentient, persistent in this old loft of...
The Seventh Whistler (after William Wordsworth) By slough and marsh my dog commits to muck and fun on coastal walk...
“I know what Winnie the Pooh would say,” Jasmine tells me. She is driving with one arm hanging out the...
He hadn’t slept more than three hours, what with the simmering resentment and Dotty’s fever. He knew Patricia needed help...