Solstice. A poem by Frances Boyle

photo by John W. MacDonald Solstice    I hate this season of aerosol expectations, too much chocolate, stale traditions, efforts to saturate teens with nostalgic spirit when one family evening is a lifetime stolen from their real world of friends.   I cling to outgrown games to slow my daughters’ inevitable drift  â€”empty arms. WhatContinue reading “Solstice. A poem by Frances Boyle”