Jeffrey Bilbro

Early in the morning deer appearout of the dark, a flicker of eyes.They allow me to get quite near, then vanish noiseless in the brush—like stars over a busy city—like lines that come in midnight’s hush and are gone at dawn—like a whirlwind that scoopsup trash from a parking lot, . . . . Continue Reading »

The American pastime offers a balm for our restless, competitive, and often militaristic culture. Continue Reading »