a beautiful grace


He sits on the corner near the newly planted city street tree.  And his dog is draped on his lap like a warm pillow—a place to lay his weary head—his troubles.  The busy of the people, they’re carrying their five-dollar cups of coffee and he, he bows his head leaning closer to the warm of his companion. And this bus ride seems to go on forever—ten hours is a long time when… Read More

I may look a little too long. Stare sometimes. Please know I’m not trying to judge.  I’m a noticer–some people have told me.  I want to know your story and to be perfectly honest, the arrow of my stare is not aimed at you–it’s centered at my heart–right back aimed straight at me. He wore a hat, his face covered by a beard. His hair long and he sat on the pavement… Read More