The sacrifice of God’s own Son On that appointed tree Before the world and water were Was destined for our Liberty. Like Summer when she...

Wayne sat on a plastic chair, t-shirt blood-spattered, blade- ripped halfway down the front, left eye swollen shut, soon to blossom with...

I grew up in Algiers, on the ‘Point,’ and when I played on the grassy slopes of the levee as a child, I would look across a half mile of...

Beyond Seasons The leaves of autumn’s frosty winds, red and gold and rust, draw more beauty from death than sunlight and gentle rain on...