Leaves on a Japanese Maple dance auburn in the wind remind me of that mother crossing Michigan Avenue before the light changes

The bog above Bob Gordon’s bog is where they found the body of an older man floating like a canoe among the lily pads. He was covered with crustaceans.

Beneath the bowling-alley bar marquee the rain tonight hammers off the concrete.

Been in trouble all my life childhood through old age. I took the alleys

Fred’s not a hunter but Animus is a beast he’d hunt down and kill and mount on his wall if he had a clear shot

They never held hands when they were a couple young and newly married as much in love as they were planning a wonderful life.

A neighbor lady I hadn’t seen in a year I heard was bedridden. Her former husband dropped by, asked if I’d to take in her trash… when I brought in my own.

I was warm and toasty, curled up, napping in amniotic fluid, without a worry when suddenly

Inseparable they are, landing one after another on the ground under the bird feeder two mourning doves

Some things you can’t undo. A remark, perhaps, you can retract or try to with an explanation. But a certain look can burn forever in the mind

Wally made the long drive home from vacation on Election Day because he wanted to vote. He went for a jog and then to the… and cast his vote for his candidat…

Where did it go? I really don’t know. I lost it weeks ago in the middle of the night. Too tired to get up.

After Yeats and Heaney, you wonder when the new one will come galloping out of Dublin or perhaps from yet another farm

Rose was a plain girl from a small town. She sang in the choir, never missed Bible study, left for the big city

The uncommon is common in America today. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, Seinfeld