A Reflection at Seventy-Three By: Kenneth Carnesi, Sr. I wake earlier than I used to, though I sleep no less. The body keeps its own clock now, indifferent to the hour I’d choose for it. There is a stiffness in…
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Reflections of a Father
By Kenneth B. Carnesi, Sr. He was the steady center of our world—quiet, certain, kind. In my seventies, I find myself measuring my life against the long, gentle shadow he still casts. There is a particular kind of quiet that…
The Weight of the Day
A Reflection on Memorial Day There is a particular kind of quiet that falls over military cemeteries on Memorial Day morning, before the crowds arrive. Row upon row of white headstones catch the early light, each one a precise, understated…
Kenneth Carnesi, Sr. 