Spark and Spitfire

Becoming A Poem

Becoming A Poem

There is unbridled potential for the poetic — in everything, even in ourselves.

The Solitary Habit

The Solitary Habit

My father died two months ago. Yesterday, we did a sunrise walk together.

Ashes, Ashes, I Still Fall Down

Ashes, Ashes, I Still Fall Down

We are taught that if we work hard enough, we will get over our losses. This has not been the case for many who grieve, including me.

Ignite — 2/3/23

Ignite — 2/3/23

“No man is lost at sea,” wrote Hemingway. Oh yeah?

Ignite — 1/27/23

Ignite — 1/27/23

God, Tom, scalding coffee, demons. Do they have ANYthing in common? A chuckle or two, perhaps?