Downtime
When I withdraw from the roster of worldly duties when I’m with myself cawing of crows bothers me more than before. I like to bombinate. When I get used to its pace, ravines belong to another sequel. Hortative voices within…
The Blew Eagle Cafe
I drove down to the Blew Eagle cafe, knowing it was risky, wanting it to be. Traffic howled on the bridge overhead. There were freighter horns and train whistles, boxcars in abandoned yards, and transient camps tucked up under the…