What is that--precious jar of unguent,
ambrosia gone soft and dangerous,
clay cradling beads of gold to soothe the sea
when the storms rise and the selkies toss?

Perhaps it is a gift for my youngest child,
who is 14 today. Happy birthday!



Pensive, dreaming of landscapes we do not know.



Gallery frolic and caw.



He held my hand. Was both fearsome and sweet.




Riot of forms... the