[c] Falling through Bamboo [A Short Story]

  I daylight fading shadows stretching infant fingers into their skins I see a leaf fall from a tree, the last leaf on the tree I see. The woods I walked when I was a boy by Aunt Mae's in the Berkshires; Housatonic River Valley tributaries webbing the terrain . . . what is there … Continue reading [c] Falling through Bamboo [A Short Story]