I've written beforeabout the chatter that fills our headsall day long.Now here's the question:If you can hear the voice,who is doing the talking?Which one are youthe speaker,or the listener?

We met serendipitously,not because the universe announced itself,but because a concrete planterheld just enough spacefor two people not lookingto notice each other anyway. A week too heavy.A night already thinning.Then your voice, unarmed.Mine answering before I knew why. Chance opened the...

mellowing out I ease into the eveningholding tight to my soulwith blessings to my readersrelax exhale, breath inhalefeel the rhythm of the nightsurrender to its emotionkind is midnightthe world becomes silent for a momentholding its breaththen moves forward towards...