The Thing about a Butterfly

With great appreciation, I’d like to thank the folks at Lit-Rally for featuring one of my stories on their site. Read the story and check out other incredible stories at Lit-Rally HERE or type in: https://www.lit-rally.com/…/2018/5/9/the-thing-about-a-butterfly into your browser. “I could tell he had been fighting to get out since the day he was born. I…

Don’t Blame the Dog: A Sunday Sermon

      A Sunday Sermon: I detest Santa Fe.  Something about the flock of soul-seeking, free-spirited white folks who pay into the commercialization, and appropriation, of spiritual enlightenment makes me cringe and, honestly, jaded.  For whatever reason I spend much of my free time in this place.  Phone calls to mom bring me away…

The Widely Known and Tragically Common Case of the Caged Bird

      “What the hell,” is not a proper way to greet anyone, even to a small brown bird flying into your home through the front door. Had it been a wren, perhaps the omens would have been different; but I have no doubts that this bird, maybe some finch or sparrow, came, as…

Awareness is a form of Gratitude

In Lebanon, the name Elias is nothing more than George or Josh and as common as Matthew here in the states. Unfortunately, growing up in Tennessee, however, that was not the case. I was pegged as exotic pretty early on, even with whitish skin. I would notice the teachers’ eyebrows advance in caution often before…

the mayflies and the apple blossoms

A certain sadness to slow us down, is that what it takes? Or a gem in the road, and for a moment, without question, We give thanks or not. Today the apple trees seem full in bloom as if suddenly—and wasn’t yesterday a different story? Of course, my heart swelled in joy for them and…

A Run Down Beuhler’s Hill

        I don’t know where it comes from, that empathic or intutitive connection to the other worlds.  Do witches and seers just happen like an oddity, by chance and without reason within a narrative? I’m not necessarily calling myself a witch, maybe witchy, at times but I have been curious.  My dear…

Beautiful.

    I don’t know too many people who have willingly read the story of their last relationship.  Fortunately, I used to date a writer.  Her work is phenomenal and I expected nothing less when reading the draft of her first book.  I guess I gave it away already but, yup, the book is written…

A Wasp in the Garden

I’m not terribly interested in keeping quiet about this matter.  Sensitive yes, but I can’t get to my point without first revealing something awful; besides, I imagine this experience is something that others have seen.  This past week I was asked to participate in a mediation between myself and another staff member, an older man…

The Story of Elsa

I wouldn’t want to write a dog story if there wasn’t a pretty message at the end.  And there’s always an end isn’t there?  I think the 90s and early 2000s was the golden-era for those heart wrenching, eye-socket flooding, emotional deluging dog movies, weren’t they?  I mean, Old Yeller was way ahead of its…

Why the Cottonwood Gave Up Everything for Spring.

  I would like to believe myself a descendant to some wise old bird aware of the terrors of being a poet in his time—or maybe just always consumed by some obsessive work. In his time he would pass up the expediency of machines or the draw of making a family to seek joys in…