travel

The rules

The rules

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We stood on a curb in Winnemucca in the dark, December 1980. Snow-pellets swirled in headlights and stung our faces and scudded down the…

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Foliage tour

Foliage tour

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The leaves look sick, chartreuse as Grandma’s tumblers. For three glorious days we have seen no autumn colors but safety-yellow as we drive through…

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Sonnet VIII

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All functions at borderline normal, the old heap keeps turning over although the needle is approaching big E. Man-killing Achilles hasn’t caught up with…

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