On the Stafford Centennial
You spent your life writing poems shaped from the earth with the quiet force of water, reminding us of the danger putting anyone on a
You spent your life writing poems shaped from the earth with the quiet force of water, reminding us of the danger putting anyone on a
When you’re writing the eulogy make sure to tell about the broke down trucks, our cabin on the creek with the blown off roof, the
Who am I to ask you questions, you’ve lived your life, taken the risks of love defeated and moments shining. Do I need to hear
In the dark of early morning when first light flickers the quiet peace intact before the city stirs, I lend my voice to the undimmed
The bare trees and gypsy fog are in love, our dark valley full of their entwining. No moon, only streetlights and winter silence holding their