September/October 2023

The backseat car window holds a view I never want to lose: A normal-looking house. Our house. Becoming smaller smaller smaller until I can barely see it in the horizon of blue, sympathetic sky and wide wheat prairie tousled in the breeze. My favorite sight is out of sight forever. I turn back around and see a new sight— our new house— now I will get used to seeing and living in it.

Goodbye, Earth: rising rising I am rising above the grass, and falling toward the moon.

 with not a star in sight so let us make them: .                                  .                         .                 . .     . .                         .         .                 . .                                                                  . .                         .                 . A memory of Joy . . .