Coming Home
On Interstate 35 north of Guthrie, driving through evening shadows I pass a rusting, stale green Chevy bouncing
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Sundown on the Blue River
White sun hangs just above the falls. You look upstream at cascading water immersed in sound, frozen by its
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Homecoming
For Uncle Max Greed, I guess—my father answered me uncharacteristically critical of our ancestors, their
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Transcending the Curriculum
I arrived at Ada Junior High School 15 minutes early. I walked past the football team, heard the whistle shrilling, the
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For This Time, At Least
As darkness descends, this time in-between, when stars are not yet lit, the moon lingering far away, I
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