Valentine

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Oh, beautiful Jack.  Again, you astonish me.  Somewhere in the wanderings and the lostness emerges a truth.  It appears among people in the strangeness and simplicity of love.  It manifests as sadness.   I turn down the corner of another … Continue reading

The Barley Mow

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A languid late summer evening. Drinking urban cider ‘neath gently breathing trees by the Barley Mow. We speak of God and goings-on in the green-room at the Marriott, whose illuminated sign shines blood-red over unfashionably matte graves (Shalom!). Both of … Continue reading