As the spring season begins, I’d like to address the question no one has been asking and officially announce my retirement from youth sports coaching.

recalling the gorgeous mornings / before the hordes / of May when grandson / and his always faithful bear / would climb into the stroller / and off we would go / down Circuit Avenue.

I come from a long line of spring haters. My sister declares, “all that growth, rebirth, and renewal — I’m not into that. Give me fall. The death season.”

Where will we walk / When the beach has gone / Pushed back into / some pickle balled court / or swimming pool / Undermined it slides / into the next wave break.

After the solar eclipse on Monday, my social media feed was full of friends posting snark about how they had, once again, survived the rapture.