every night we become master burpers, sooth sayers, rockers; our prayers go straight up every night we lose our breath, our pace ...

(A Clogyrnach) Ripples whisper through fields of grass At nightfall when no footsteps pass Over this bare hill Where I linger still—...

Four-year-old David who has Downs snuggles into three-year-old Tommy’s chest like a Maine coon cat. He pets Tommy’s head flubs his...