The Book Barn
The Book Barn is bigger than it looks and harder to find. It’s out there in what were once pastures and cornfields but today are the wild wooly wags. What lies beyond that can...
Author: John P. O'Grady
Red Apple Rest
Red Apple Rest was a famous highway stop along Route 17 in Tuxedo, New York. The cafeteria-style eatery opened in 1931 and for decades did a booming business. Several generations of vacationers regarded this...
The Ceiling of Heaven
Last night was the coldest of winter so far. This morning, a waning crescent of moon in the pre-dawn sky. Venus and Saturn too. The sky was the color of an indigo bunting. I...
How Long?
Here is an unfamiliar name, inscribed upon stone. Words below: “Gone but not forgotten.” The name: to read, to utter, to wait. Something then exhumed. Not the one to whom it belonged. Someone else....
The Poetry Trail
I was driving along a rutted dirt road on the far side of the river, through a landscape of scruffy pastures and second-growth woods. I saw a sign that said “Poetry Trail.” This was...
Again on the Brink
Nature is a haunted house. Its door could be anywhere. There’s one now. Walk up. Knock. Await the fall of foot. Inside or out? Nobody’s home.
Neither Here Nor There
One of nowhere’s many middles. Parking comes easy. Signs pointing every which way. Stay or go? Trees are travelers too.
The Multitudes Uncontained
Same old news. Some guns, some bombs, some fatalities. Too many to keep count of anymore. Another nation joins an air war. Which one? Missing Ohio teen found after being held in Missouri. No...
Phenological
Black Friday. A headline reads: “Trading in stock futures this morning is directionless.” Another headline: “Active Shooter in Colorado Springs.” Things run their course. Daylight flags, inspiration too. What’s going on? The almanac says:...