By Don / Date: June 26th, 2018
I could sit on a cushion and follow my breath. I have done that. Or stretch beyond downward dog into cobra and beyond. And I do. Or I could unfold myself along a line between the foreground and middle distance, in strides measured in smooth, swift acceleration, shifting gears, pressure, balance and an eye ever […]
By Don / Date: June 13th, 2018
Her Husband died that day. It took a while. After the grief, guilt, the many shades and graces of pain. After the mourners had left. After the last of the old letters, now tear-stained and worn, ripped had finally been put in a bag at the back of the closet. Or burned. Along with the […]