Dad never knew me as a 50 year-old and he'll never know me at 52 and I am good with that not because I like it but because there …
When You Think Of Me I Think Of You
You could call this a post written on nothing more than instinct. Words that flow from a space you can't see inside me but perhaps …
Letters About Dreams & Reality
Been back in the place where I write letter about dreams and reality because I cannot not do so. Call it a compulsion but not a …
Still Singing Our Song
If you asked where I went I might say you could have read about it in the familiar places and elsewhere but it wouldn't tell the …