FATHER by Frances Frost My father’s face is brown with sun, his body tall and limber. His hands are gentle with beast or child and strong as hardwood timber. My father’s eyes are the colors of sky, clear blue or gray as rain: They change with the swinging change …
journal entry: How about more? I asked George what he was doing? He asked me why I couldn’t tell. I admitted that I hadn’t been looking closely enough. Then I made amends by saying that “George is a robber ! “ Look very carefully. What do you see? What …
journal entry: Most of us remember childhood fun with our cousins. Some memories are brighter than others and some are better embellished or forgotten. They are generally memories of parties with family, big and small, birthday cakes, games, running, sleeping out and playing in water. Adults rarely joined in but sat in summer …
journal entry: So many stories can be told through the observation of work. Our grandchildren who live nearby have come to love Grandpa’s garden and the many things that grow in it. The summer is gone and so are the peas and the peaches and the apples and the …
