Mirage
The year was 1978. I was in the cold clutches of a winter that would not end. We endured an intrepid record setting blizzard and up to two feet of snow on the ground that never seemed to melt, even … Continue reading Mirage
The year was 1978. I was in the cold clutches of a winter that would not end. We endured an intrepid record setting blizzard and up to two feet of snow on the ground that never seemed to melt, even … Continue reading Mirage
The Metaphor: So, I planted a rosebush next to my mailbox. I thought it would be a beautiful thing. I thought it would grow up and have pretty pink flowers and like so many of my neighbors’ mailbox flora would … Continue reading “The Rosebush and the Root”