In memory of a beloved teacher.

A haiku about white prickly poppy, a type of Texas wildflower and a day on the beach when an updraft lifted fog–see the photograph.

A secret part of my biography. Here is the true story of how I saw Christopher Marlowe for the first time… really. I still hear someone whisper: “What nourishes me, destroys me…”.

Sometimes, in order to regroup when we have lost direction, we need to go back to where we were the happiest in our childhood and reconnect to who we were before all the baggage started weighing us down with care. When we know where we came from, it is easier to navigate where we are going.