“No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea…” The theologian John Donne long ago spoke of man, isolation from others words taken to…

Open air and closed eyes. Soft breeze through hair like a gentle lover. Lapping waves and ocean spray cools where sun beats down. Smell of salt and algae; anywhere else a sign of rot, but here, freedom  

the dog was not mine but it was my friend listened only to its owner and to me the dog would put its paws on my shoulders look me in the eye and lick my face and I would stand my ground, five years old,…