This must be the place: ‘You know that if we are to stay alive, then see the peace in every eye’
Last week, I received an email one morning from a reader of this here column. He said he enjoyed the words spilling out over this one particular page every week, then asked if I had thought about putting out a book. It had been awhile since that notion floated through my mind. And, truth be told, it dusted off some aspirations I’ve been keeping in the closet of my mind for too long.
This must be the place: 'All these places had their moments, with lovers and friends, I still can recall'
I turned 40 years old today.
This morning, I awoke in the guest bedroom of my parents’ farmhouse in my native North Country of Upstate New York. It was 12 degrees outside with a frigid breeze, the sun shining brightly. I rolled over and looked out the second-story window onto a backyard blanketed in snow, each flake sparkling.
