Drifting Sands—A Journal of Haibun and Tanka Prose
My brother died on his thirty-second birthday. Overdosed. I wished he had chosen his thirty-third. Then his death might have made more sense. Not that I’m religious. Our family never was. I suppose, like he, we sought our own gods. I chose love. Still, the religious say I’m a skeptic. But I have faith and […]