We’re coming upon a holiday where we as a people gather together and reflect on gratitude. We may contemplate the hundreds of Thanksgivings our people had before us. Or, perhaps, we ruminate over the gatherings in the most recent decade. A particular dish. A special person. A family tradition. WeContinue Reading

This story is about an experience I had with my dad on a sunny afternoon in the mountain holler where we lived. I was about nine or ten years old at the time, and my dad would have been about thirty. The details of that afternoon are not entirely clear,Continue Reading

I saw your face,             and felt the gravity of the moment. The ghost inside echoed the shift,             recording the tangent in my course. Your words, your touch, and your spirit             nudged my bearing. Tracking left and right,             I found no center where once it guided. Bending to the mass ofContinue Reading

A childhood memory, ca. 1965, when I was nine years old in Swannanoa, North Carolina . . . Up in the holler . . . If my memory serves me correctly, it was late afternoon; I don’t remember what season of the year it was, although it was warm outside.Continue Reading