The Armful For every parcel I stoop down to seize I lose some other off my arms and knees, And the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns, Extremes too hard to comprehend at once. Yet nothing I should care to…
Poem: Happiness
Happiness –Michael Van Walleghen Weep for what little things could make them glad. –Robert Frost, Directive Melvin, the large collie who lives in the red house at the end of my daily run is happy, happy to see me even…