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exploding, imploding; repeat

Boston Marathon Bombing, April 15, 2013; Motive: Retaliation for U.S. military action/wars in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Kabul, Afghanistan, U.S. Drone Bombing, August 29, 2021; Motive: U.S. retaliation for suicide bombings outside Kabul airport that killed US military personnel and Afghans seeking to leave the country.

The Blood We See, The…

public domain

Screen Prisons

The internet, a 24/7 global threshold, gives us access to skewed perspectives of the world based on algorithms. It is all about capturing mindshare and frequent engagement for profit. It is predatory code and has no interest in your mental and physical health. It cares nothing for your…

Merciful, Moociful

As I look out my office window, the sun breaks the boundaries of today’s clouds. Immediately, the snowfields glow, almost blinding on their sweep down to the inky blue expanse of Lake Champlain, whose western shoreline is anchored by the snow strewn Adirondacks. This view never gets old. …

a different season

Of all the seasons of a life, COVID-19 has been one of the most challenging. Certainly, it’s been the most unusual. Today the virus moved a bit closer to our immediate family, as a fellow employee of a family member is symptomatic and awaiting test results. …

cradling the last light

At the Threshold

A gentle shower
washes my mother’s death
away-
the lingering sensation
of her hand held in mine,
remnants of words
on my lips
whispered against her ear
“I love you.”
“You’re safe.”
“It’s okay to let go.”

I learn in a circle,
death is its own cleansing.
Where we are
how we are
the distances any two souls
travel together
meet at a threshold
of grace and forgiveness,
to honor
love’s ferocious resilience
compassion’s brimming reach-
each wrapped in the quietest,
gentlest light
at the borders of breath
as we say goodbye.

January 19th, 7th anniversary of my mother’s death.

Hero Lessons

I.
He is coming. The popping-crackle sound of tires on gravel, the soft whir of car engine announces him. It is likely Friday, though in the earlier years it could have been any day, the unpredictability key. I am 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14…

It’s July 25th. Some Americans are shaking their heads with disbelief. Other Americans are shaking their heads with conviction. Simultaneously, 1,000 Americans are suffocating to death at a peak, daily rate. Again.

Most of the rest of the world is shaking their heads, too. They are confused as to why…

childhood trauma

Beasts

She fed us to him. One after the other, she fed us to him. To save her own flesh. Anything to appease the Beast.

His appetite was varied and unpredictable. It struck in broad daylight. It raged in the middle of the night, untethered and fueled by alcohol. The…

Chalk Story

400 years to today. Individual or nation, repair and healing cannot occur unless one unflinchingly bears witness to the truth. Then acts.

When The World Cracked Open

upon waking
in the sheets of dawn,
my right shoulder aches
frozen from sleeping on one side
night after night
turning away to prevent
breath meeting breath
our backs tiny fortresses
against the sharing of droplets,
if not the spilling of fear,
the invisible twin threats spreading,
knocking Atlas to…

Lyndon

Essays ~ Memoir ~ Poetry ~ Photos ~ Repeat

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