Country Love and Lore Scarecrow needs a new suit. What will the neighbours think, between our field and theirs it...
The Last Mile I ran from tail flicking Friesians their eyes, pools of nowhere, and when everywhere wore off I...
Exhaust Down the country road I witnessed a lengthy cordial visit. An older man was gabbing colorfully with the farmer’s...
The question may be raised why we chose precisely the past of a city to compare with the past of...
Around Troupsburg The night unwinds its skein of silver-blue wool around the moon and trains its face to glow upon...
Rite of Passage In Bali, it’s the filing of the canines to limit boys’ wild adolescence. Among Cameroon’s Baka Pygmies...
Weeding in the Tillage Field c.1969 Drizzly rain in for the day. The young lad, set to weeding the tillage-patch...
When They Ring Those Golden Bells Days fall away like apples from October tress cheeks, full and ablush, kissing silver from delicate wrists...
Ciboloto Miss Yang gone to the Western Hemisphere never been back since seeds on her desk have sprouted and grown...
The Kinship of Tools When we bought the farm, the old man shook my hand, his grip still strong from...
Staying Warm The plastic bubble bag that shipped vitamins four weeks after purchase did not keep the rain off my...
Of Quicksilver (after Robert Frost) One year, at the caravan park where my grandparents and I spent part of each...