Grandchildren
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Lost in the In-Between
I feel the taste of summer’s last kissa fond farewella sad goodbyeher warm embrace wears scarlet wingsriding retreat on cool autumn breezes Andrew Prokop It’s not even September and yet I feel the mutterings of autumn. The sun is slightly lower in the sky. The sumacs are already turning red and orange. The loons have… Continue reading
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Where do the Children Play
It is right that he too should have his little chronicle, his memories, his reason, and be able to recognize the good in the bad, the bad in the worst, and so grow gently old down all the unchanging days, and die one day like any other day, only shorter. Samuel Beckett As a grandfather… Continue reading
