Easter 2024
I heard the semis on the turnpike off and on through the night hum like angels humming the blues of […]
Poetry by Byron Hoot
I heard the semis on the turnpike off and on through the night hum like angels humming the blues of […]
I see no master with a band of disciples approaching Rochester Mills on this Palm Sunday. Hear no trilling of […]
I buy Fig Newtons occasionally. They are a communion with that time when Mrs. Heinz would give them to me […]
It is Sunday and I feel the futility of prayer in the air and the urge to pray as if […]
I kept the radio on a sports talk station because I did not want to hear the conversations the drive […]
The trees in my yard have a clarity foregrounded against the thinning fog. The winter grass looks ready for spring. […]
It may be the blood of the lamb washes away sins but I’ve heard too many testimonies where the details […]
It is early evening. The sun has reversed its rays from the west to east side of the landscape. The […]
I would speak the way first light does in the gradual sighs of the sun’s slow, heavy breathing as it […]
I had family in Oil City, a fishing camp outside of Titusville. The memories of driving from West Virginia, later from […]