“But are they sad?” I overheard her say.
No more than five
Up North with mum for the August bank holiday.
I saw what she meant. They hardly seemed alive
Compared with, overhead, the flock of geese
That flew with everything they had toward France
Or Spain. All of a sudden, all eyes went skyward.
But if the swans were jealous, they held their peace.
I bet they knew, by then, they’d had their chance.
Homesick, maybe. Sad? That wasn’t my word.
—Dan Rattelle
Sounds of Kyoto
iThey intensifythe courtyard’s evening chill,the dragon flutes,soaring with other woodwindsthrough variations of shrill. iiIs it the bronzeor…
False Patriots
November 5, 2024, was one of the most joyous days of my life. Like 77,302,580 of my…
Taming the Tongue
On October 14, Politico reported on a group chat in which leaders of various Young Republicans groups…