[[bpstrwcotob]]
Braids and the Meaning of Life
As a child, I was in awe of girls with braids. Girls whose hair was set in strictures like Sunday sermons.
Invocation
Kingsessing in Southwest Philadelphia is a low country of porches and brick. A long green edge where Cobbs Creek keeps the seasons and the city sets its weight down
When the Veil is Open
You can’t find morels without your father’s eye trawling the deadwood and bramble for you. Thrashers thrash in the canopy, busking their duplicitous song while chipmunk and squirrel weasel through foliage, striped firecrackers.