Poet Laundry

  I am naked here, arms stretched wide.   I’ve removed my apron, my soles are rooted, sandals tossed aside—   shaking my pap...

  On the menu: chocolate cakes. Two, to be exact. One with espresso in the batter, one without. One apple cake, one apple crisp....

  How cozy that morning when the deer were in the yard at daybreak, soft glow from a book light, coffee cup in hand.   How for...