William Hazel Writes
Books. Blogs. Travelogues.

Before dawn. Birdsong. Crows rouse earlier than finches this November morning. All night quiet among the branches, then flapping into wakefulness and soon comes an outbreak of life. So much to say as the sun brings the day. Utterances to full calls echo through thick magnolia and crape myrtle branching nude. The trees change shape with limbs waking to the dawn, reaching for each other, like holding hands for help with the work of lifting to the sun. Like us all, quiet and sti

I’m the Boomer and I’m not. Let’s make that clear. Zoomer is a best friend. He recently aged into ordering whatever pleases him with his own ID. The Boomer Zoomer tag is his doing. Since I’m a Boomer and I’m not, I’ve been carrying a quiet resentment these past seven years since he hot ironed the branding shortly after our first meeting. Zoomer is finishing his undergrad these days, so we get together when the opportunity spills. On a chosen shirt stuck to your neck July

The January Gym is an overcrowded asses to elbows hell rush to wellness. A once-a-year event. It will swell with flesh again shortly ahead of summer, but this month, this now, this new year beginning is stand alone. Everything reeks of resolution and self-loathing. New faces in new clothes staining in the sweat of want and willpower and wonderings of reshaping shapes mocking in mirrors since the holiday binge. The November gym was busy, though swathes of open space brough