My great-grandfather spoke those words in 1947, when my great-grandmother died of a heart attack. I may have found

The gravestones of slaves in Waterford, Virginia, are crudely hewn rocks. Some bear no names, only diamond

During winter darkness hides Heaven. Once-white clouds spread like a thick duvet. The empty park, seen from my

Inside all darkness, and with ecstatic epiphany, we hear the thoughts of the out-of-breath departed, who lost their

Eid Mubarak The gentle blessing floats off our tongues like  shallow breaths, as morning dew from the grass kisses our

The world is etched in dusty charcoal, a place of darkness Not the soft comfort wrapped around me as I am put to

He woke with a start. Dawn was drawing near, and the early signs of a midsummer storm were trudging through