It’s time for our family get-away not a cottage but a  week up in Boyne. A resort here in upper Michigan far away from the chaos and noise.   Pack the car with food, masks, and goodies and a bottle of iced coffee for me….

Dawn, scans the treeline,  searching for dusk, the heat of noon hides him behind a mask of light. The bottle in Dawn’s  grip contains a magic porridge, which once inside Dusks belly causes lethargy, Dusk waits for Dawn, for the game to begin within the his strange…

I scrape my plate – Ron’s yam and salmon hash – And read about Edna St. Vincent Millay, Reckoning, in this strange time that a brash Assertion of fragility would sail, Nay, zoom, over the unfettered charmless Who take for granted their unguarded selves And…

Each morning in Thomasville, the air smelled of varnish from the furniture factory Sun like I’d never seen woke me, warming the air, begging me to go outside The heat meant I could smell every tree, every blade of grass At night the air rang…

It is known that you want something in return, like the microscopical crawling waves over the skin, but when the strange bottle with fireflies arrive from dreams the fade in the light like something masked flies and mosquitos go around, breaking calm guide to chicken…

For my Emily Grace   In the heat of summer, a strange tiding brewed. Past the cottage, near the treeline where I camped, I heard a ghastly noise. The noise reminded me of a cross between a cat fight that was going wrong and a…

The comfort of fireflies Housed in a brown-glass bottle The fruits of labours spent over A long day of laughter Is soon forgotten, Like the African mask keepsake From a year’s past holiday, In the face of a steaming Bowl of porridge Newly removed from…

Strange, how things can come about so unexpectedly; Strange, how friendships can develop so naturally When masks are accepted to be worn and removed so frequently When the heat of one’s heart and mind can move so fluidly. It was like that, when fireflies were…

He says, “Fireflies are beautiful. I can’t believe you’ve never seen them. You can catch them in a bottle, you know? We’ll stay in Aunt Annie’s cottage in Hanover. When the heat is high, the tree line is where we’ll watch lights dance against the night…

Our bus zooms past treeline highways as we travel to the annual camp-meeting I am always looking forward to the camp-meeting It is in the cool, dry breeze and the happy faces It is in the strange people who peopled the places There is no…