There Is A Field

It is the end of a year. It was not an easy year. I look back on the year past and wince shielding my inner-eye from the pain of my mother’s illness and death, the blur of unexpected activity, long hours spent on the road traveling between Minnesota and Illinois: winter weather, freezing fog, snow […]

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A Child Went Forth

Walt Whitman wrote– There was a child went forth every day,       And the first object he looked upon and received with wonder     or pity or love or dread, that object he became, And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of      the […]

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