If on thoughts of death we are fed,Thus, a coffin, became my bed.

Show your compassion to people in their life time; no amount of your tears can serve as compensation when their coffins are lowered!

There was an eerie quiet about last night, like death sleeping on the beach of Lake Erie. I woke up with sand in my shoes and tiny coffins on my feet.

It is my trade,” he said. “I work for the bean family, and every day there are deaths among the beans, mostly from thirst. They shrivel and die, they go blind in their one black...

Perhaps because it seems so appropriate, I don’t notice the rain. It falls in sheets, a blanket of silvery thread rushing to the hard almost-winter ground. Still, I stand without moving at the side of...