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Waterleaf
180 wordsAs I walk through the waterleaf, I feel, with joy, the old forest–the dark, furrowed cedars, the tall oaks in the clearing, the endless paths untouched by pavement. Not long ago there was only ivy here, but now the waterleaf has won. The sun holds close to their fine-haired leaves, lighting them from above and…
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Winter Afternoon
111 wordsIn the folding horizon,a bare tree,branches like the stiff undersea coralI once found on a Hawaiian beach,dried out, twig-like, sculptedto hold something bigger than it. From far away, the crows look like fruit,perched there,small and ruffled,pressed into themselves,warm feathers in the wind. As I’m watching, a line of geeseflow over, their wings broad and dark,…
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Last Long Blue
56 wordsThe sky holds on to blue long after sunset, condensed from day soaking into night, a blue like the blush on elderberries, like water as a cloud passes, calm, over a stream. I want to reach out and hold on to it, wrap it around me, jump into it, this, the last long blue of…
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Poplar
50 wordsI look out the window at the poplar, leaves hanging, ancient, like a willow. It blows in the wind like sea grass, liquid, slow-motion, great sweeps that rest, dangling, between winds. Behind the poplar, the sky darkens, a muted gray-purple, holding both sunset and rain, the color of river rocks.
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