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The Glass Moon
135 wordsMoonlight caught up in all the layers of the atmosphere and filtered by glass, colorless, resting on the backs of my hands. We once would have been out in this moonlight, bathing in it, our eyes adjusted to the dark, our hands warmed by fires, and I feel nostalgic for those moments that my ancestors…
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Mountain Water
268 wordsThe mountain is here. It hides in the silhouette of the morning sun, its gray rock softened to the color of the moon, and it watches me as I walk the streamside plains. This is a place of blue rapids tossing beneath fir branches, and dense, dark clouds gathered like flocks of starlings. Today the…
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Before the Light
407 wordsYou have been here since before the light. Back then, the air tasted like brine, and smoke from village fires. There was no petroleum haze; no asphalt riverbeds. You were far from the ocean, but you knew it was there, just beyond the hill, sparkling with bioluminescence each night. You liked to think of it,…
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The Frogs
257 wordsWe walked along a stream, the grasses short, almost silver, interspersed with red-leafed huckleberry and the tall, puffed heads of pasque flowers. Beyond the rush of the stream there was the drone of insects–bees, or mosquitos, somewhere far-off but omnipresent, in our chests like the thump of a bass. Suddenly the ground began to move,…
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