Tag Archives: woods

the iron age

The forest is calling me. It calls me all of the time. It never stops calling me. I guess I encourage it. I say, give me a call. And the trees say, “when is a good time to reach you?” … Continue reading

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30 minutes

it was mother’s day. i was invited to brunch at my mother’s place with my oldest sibling, S.,  visiting from the west coast. i phoned from the highway to tell them that i was running 30 minutes late. it was … Continue reading

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