Of ash trees and fireflies

Morning prayer begins as always, coffee in hand, legs tucked under. Cocooned in the worn down of the sunroom sofa I close my eyes. Without seeing, I sense the gentle sway of the ash tree’s branches towering over my garden. The sunlight flickers, waxing and waning with...

Suite d’espoir, Spring

I’m learning to taste hunger. I’ve always taken food for granted. Not the taste—I’m a certifiable foodie. Just the question of whether I had access to food or not. Living in a land of plenty, I’ve never known true hunger. Oh, I may grumble from time to time,...

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