We are protagonists stuck in a Greek tragedy wherein the chorus knows more than we do yet refuses to share their insights or advice
my father’s collection of rosary beads–gathered over the decades from his years in the war, from marriages, baptisms, some deaths, and then others.
Them gray hairs unruly— unjust, how they romp and roam in a goatee, on a hair- line, or in pubic arena. Glinting a