This poem was written by Richard Tyler to acknowledge that life is precious   Mayfly You will not live past morning. Yet you know nothing of this. I cannot decide: the gift, or the grief.   I have been counting. All those unreached hours. The words still...

This poem was written by Richard Tyler to celebrate Father's Day.   Heartwood Somewhere today a hand still steadies a hand: the small one learning the road, the wobble caught before the fall, the low voice behind it…go on, I have you. All day the phones fill with...