We walk past the boat harbor. Sailboats bob in the bay. Purple and yellow flowers line the sidewalk as we pass the water treatment plant. They are not enough to take the mind and nose away from the stench, but the smell doesn’t bother us. It’s something we have come to know as home. I … More color
monarchs © 2012 Brooke Stevens My kids love without conditions. They care about people and animals. Water, dirt and sand, rocks and trees. They care about many things. They have not yet been spoiled by their surroundings. They want to help others. Pick up trash. Recycle. Give. Not only to those less fortunate but to everyone. … More running out of time
He’s lost it a little. That something that pushed and pushed and pushed him. It was light. But there was deep darkness too. Days did not end or begin. They only moved seamlessly one into another. And now that he is full and filling out—heavier, slower, more patient with the world—he has so much of … More and tonight, there is this
He comes to me. Big, brown eyes. Smiling. “Daddy, let’s pick night crawlers.” “What for?” He does a little jump. Claps his hands. “For fishing!” My boy. Five years old. Tickled with the notion of traipsing through puddles, picking slimy worms. “But we can’t go fishing today,” I say. “Mom will be here soon.” Undefeated. … More after the rain
You will make many mistakes. Some of them inexplicable even though you are a grown man with a career, car payments, a mortgage or three, and husband and daddy duties. You’ll say mean things to your kids. Kick the cat out of the way. Raise your voice to your wife. You’ll wake up drunk in … More Eight Years
I heard a voice tonight. The kids were in pajamas. We had just said our family prayer and were playing tic, tac, toe, hit me high, hit me low, hit me three times in a row, buddy got hit by a UFO and what I heard was ROCK and so I played rock and … More our son’s last race of the school year
