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The Spirit of a Goat by Cindy Falteich
I have a goat. He’s a boy. I named him Billy. I know how unoriginal that is. He’s also a professional eater. As I sit here on the creek bank, listening to the forest while babble flows freely through my head, he hovers near, chomping on the thorniest, pokiest, vilest of weeds with incisors made…
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Reflecting on the Now by Cindy Falteich
It’s overcast so I intend to speed past, believing that without the sun, nothing will shine. But I’m wrong— admittedly. I stare into the still water, opaque darkness obliterating what I might see beyond the surface. As I watch, wondering why I was called to the edge, the messy, majestic forest that lines the opposite…