By Ash Alder   I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers. –Claude Monet May is a month of magic. A single flower is proof. But the Earth spills fragrant blossoms with the fervor of a [...]

May Poem

Cave Men A full wine rack is Saturday mornings, The first day of vacation, A just-waxed car. It is a promise of future good dinners, of future celebrations, of a future. A full wine rack murmurs: [...]

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