Deconstruction

John Middlebrook Retracing my steps, I walk my life backwards, resisting the urge to grasp too soon. I recede all the way to where words were not heard, trading my refinements for the gifts of birth. Now moving forward, I see once more clouds on puddles dropped by the sky; shadows are sponges cast from… More

Fallout

John Middlebrook When I return to my place, nothing has moved beneath the layers of dust. Everything’s intact as if I had planned how it should be found. The series of decisions we made together now leaves us, one by one, to grasp that our chances are as random as the wind chimes’ unrehearsed jangling… More