Profile: Sam Ridenour
History
- Member for
- 39 years 2 weeks
Recently written
We're Holding Our Own
The autumn moon looks too far away, an amber porch bulb draped in a tattered shroud of moths, all but a handful of stars faded into the weave. Buoyed up on the breath of the lake, frail whispers of wood smoke foretell the winter. Out on Superior the lights of a freighter ride the horizon.