Only once did he ever throw a dollar coin in, and that was a moment.
Category: Bone
Honest truth laid bare, what endures when all else is stripped away.
My Freedom, Unconditional
Agency was always mine—inner knowing, intuition’s quiet recognition, the soul speaking through the heart.
The Elephants at Dawn
The shimmering tent came alive with their help.
Paprika, Cayenne, and Memory
Since my daughter’s birth I have the perfect excuse to do everything. My heart is in it once again.
The Art of Stick Whittling
He was wonderful with wood. A carpenter by trade.
Star-Child Morning
I sat in the dark, recognizing the rarity of this moment—peace, magic, beauty, stillness aligned perfectly.
Patchworked Holidays
My family was patchworked, wounding sewn into the seams.
White Knuckles
My first crush, the one with butterflies and innocent fantasies, was for my science and math teacher. His kindness and patience made me feel safe and warm.
Spoon Rings
Haunted jewelry. It had an upswing in the ’60s and ’70s. I wonder how many of those rings we found were authentic— and came with ghosts.
Sweet Honesty
My mother kept a butter-colored flower girl of glass, frosted skirt, in the hutch on display.
Jasmine on the Grave 