lost in cyberspace the blogger stats let me know I've had 0 views today

a hit-or-miss morning through the railroad tunnel of rain clouds

in the dry bed of a creek even the rocks look thirsty

"the oil blob" roaming the gulf like the grim reaper

a portrait of my shoes holding up better than I am

address book entry an entire page dedicated to how many times she has moved

a july pattern the recycled heat drifting in from the gulf

moving up a notch in the charts this week the crooning of cicadas

solar eclipse a lot farther south than any of my windows

reruns on tv sometimes the clink of the ice machine is our only conversation