Collecting Clouds
Recently my mom gave me a slim photo album that had been her fathers, my grandfather. In photo album are pictures of clouds. The camera is aimed up, the trees have no purpose, there are no people, the clouds were
Lost and Found
My book group met last week. Usually we read novels and sometimes nonfiction and very occasionally poetry. This was one of those rare times of poetry. We chose to read from Kay Ryan’s book of poems The Niagara River.