Empty As A Pillowcase
I had known women who wanted children, who had spooked me. One…
Rooster May Crow
The impulse hit me like remembering something you forgot when…
FOURTH OF JULY—An American Garden of Fire
Gunpowder flowers
bloom after dark,
Flaming roses,
black-eyed…
A Letter to Young Writers
The only true voice a writer can speak in—honestly and…
Spinning The Bottle
That first winter in high school, we were wild. Not…
The Night Will Be Young Forever
It was 1962, the rabble beyond the waterway were already well…
They Came With A Rope
A horse is the most compelling toy possible for a budding young…
Little Gigantic Thing
My first romance
rode a painted horse
called “Beauty.”
She…
The Glitter of Her Laughter
I was still wearing the clothes I had slept in, and couldn’t…
Bomb Attack
About one month into the 9th grade, we were practicing for a…
Ignition
Whenever a girl got into my car, any chance of my paying undivided…
Larger Than the Land
Headed for Surfside in the wet cold morning, we took Highway…