My mom loved to tell me stories of her childhood when I was young. It was not uncommon for her to call my name and ask the famous question, “Who do you want to hear about tonight?” It was a calming ritual for me, as I cuddled up next toContinue Reading
Christmas Eve 2018 A clock tick away from thirty my grandson lowers onto a chair beside me where we stare at the curious chiaroscuro of Christmas lights blinking in a pattern as undetectable as the reasons for his diagnosis. He sips air with the feeblest exertion of swamp-diseased lungs. SomeContinue Reading
The ornaments on my Christmas tree tell the story of my life. Fisherman for Mamaw hangs at the top, she’s gone now, but that man smiles like she did when she saw me opening my gifts. Red hope, an ornament for losing her and remembering her a year later whenContinue Reading
— From Death, Child, & Love: Poems 1980-2000 Last night while trimming our Christmas tree my son pointed out how I’d not written many poems lately to which I replied, “It’s true. But sometimes life is more prose than poetry. Do you understand?” A stupid question considering what he’d justContinue Reading
Nestled south of Asheville, next to the Blue Ridge Parkway in the Bent Creek Experimental Forest, The North Carolina Arboretum’s gardens and wooded trails are one of my favorite photo hunting grounds. Each visit reveals new subjects and new perspectives. During the winter holiday season, the gardens are bedecked inContinue Reading
The next part of our journey transports us on a cold December day to Briceville, Tennessee – just a hop, skip, and a jump away from Coal Creek. We arrive at the Cross Mountain mine almost ten years after the Fraterville mine disaster. Coal camps in Appalachia were cheerful inContinue Reading