Will you please look, upon that house, that one time was my home? The girls would play on the south side, underneath that tree that...

The beauty of a morning cannot be compared to any other, as that of a Christmas Day. When Christ was born in Bethlehem; with everything...

These days, from Thanksgiving to Christmas Eve, have been rough, and beautiful in their least moments. Lots to do and so little time....

“Thanksgiving went right on by this year,” it said, giggling, “No one took a shot with a bow and arrow, nary a gun popped to dust my...

Just below Keetonville Hill, on this road that separates Claremore three miles to the east, and the road to Owasso just a mile up. It’s ...

Those lost from this earth, a small portion remains, Fettered in silent waiting, For the time when their spirit and soul reunite, And the...

Days have crept by since I’ve been alone, winter is setting, The trees and grass have turned brown, each limb like a jail wall, holding...

Only half of what we see, Only half of what we believe, Only half the distance is real. If in the sunlight of the day, We are looking...

A whole, full look, one can see what is, what was, and what has been. The sky is rolling with late fall clouds, bringing winter with,...

Grandma had cut one-inch squares of the cloth; From scraps, pieces of leftover or thrown away clothes and flour sacks decorated for...

The wheels, the pair, a corner turned, to be raised above and read like a sign, one watches north and south, the other east and west. The...

“Please ma’am, I just need a mooment” the cow said so pleasantly, so courteous in its mootions, “I need you to moove this cart, so that I...

Watch the cold air move over you, watch the warm air move away. When you see the morning light become crystal clear, with the tiny gloss...

In 1975, this barn came down, slowly, it’s insides became empty, and it fell from its top. The land was plowed, and it became a growing...

The slightest breeze takes over the rocking of the tree, and gathers up the working of the night, and reveals its daytime look, as...

The way, seems to be between the far trees, a little right of center, where the path drops off, and the fog is rising, or falling, as the...

A grip of sadness may find a small piece to hold upon our hearts, as the fallen wrap themselves around our feet, and leave the tree limbs...

The memory works hardest when we first awake, all the pictures of things past fly by us in the night, and slow for that few precious...

The driven Ford has met its end, sort of, It’s paint is rusted off and left blank, sort of, Headlights gone, wheel well lights gone, sort...