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Author: Bernard Fraley
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Come In, Come In
I am your address, stranger; How else could you come here? I am eating the most perfect stalk of celery. In this way I have become my grandfather, but I do not know which one.
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Peonies in the Rain
This poem, Peonies in the Rain, is described by author Bernard Fraley, as "a memory from my mother's garden."
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My Best Friends Bark
I know I don’t look normal, so why would you expect me not to talk to trees? Trees were and always have been among my first and best friends. It was even a tree that first taught me to stand up on my two hind legs.
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Finding the way
One day Zoe was sitting in the living room floor next to a large empty box that once contained a microwave oven. She reached up, grasped the top of this box, and pulled herself erect into a standing position. Then, without fanfare or announcement, this baby started pushing the box across the floor while squealing…
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Brother Rat
By now, most of my friends know that I have been living for over a year with a mouse which I call Freeda. She eludes capture, has found a cozy home up inside a sofa chair, and every night I put out a saucer of water and another with nuts, pizza pieces, crusts of English…
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The Kind of Hush that is More than Silence
We floated our beds like rafts down the wide Mississippi, fought riverboat pirates, struggled in curtains of labyrinth jungles, skirted our feet around volcanic coals of the in-floor furnace. We carried on like phantoms in secret societies of shadow, on towards the Alamo – wearing our capes, waiting for flight.
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Fire and Ice
It’s funny when you do not understand the advice you are given. I guess funny is not the right word.
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Learning the way
When I was very young, I had an older cousin, Dale Medford, who would loan me books to read. That is where I discovered the first three mainstays of my developing years. “The Three Musketeers” showed me how people, although very different, could be friends, could enjoy each other’s company while allowing each other to lead…
