This morning, my son
has a conversation
with the sun.
He - a round baby human
behind cloth and cold window.
She - a golden flame
behind blue earth and snow.
He sings and coos,
while she in her brilliance,
peek-a boos.
Ten Years Ago
You were born at 7:20 in the morning while a team of silent surgeons stood in the corner of our hospital room, their scalpels sharp and thei...
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One weekend every year, The Mini-Unit travels somewhere together and this February, we bused from Boston to New York City. The Mini-Unit ...
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