by Gil Hoy On those windswept weekday mornings, asphalt driveway crusted with snow, my father would get up early, put on his secondhand boots and an old coat, and exit through our front door into the blue hour to get the motor running. That fifteen-year-old station wagon would stall if…
By Jenny Andrews Cool rain-filled wind, skips along leaves strewn paths. White roses swirl in the afternoon breeze, rose scent saturates this mid-October day. Red rose petals scatter among the brown and yellow leaves decay. Cool rain and that revived memory of that man I once loved in a season…