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The Hunter
90 wordsHalf-light,pulled close around the ferns,as I wade through dusk swamps of ivy,walking, rushing,swatting lace-webbed kingdomsdrawn between cedar tendrils, down to the base of the creek,the silver rush of mud and fallen leaveswhere the owl watches,her wings two striped archesunfolding silently into the air,an arrow bound for the soil,for the slick white back,wet with dew,of a…
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Between Waves
46 wordsThe cloud sea. Two crows bow to the pink edges. They perch on top of the Douglas firs, where the sun unfolds, seeping through as though salt from the sea. And the clouds move steadily–sloped mountainsides, saturated grey-blue: storms, far hills, still moments between waves.
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Jupiter and Saturn
134 wordsWe chased the sun, its red hulked glow dipping into the mountains,the river running high, and overcast,spanning out at the place where the hills drift apart, and we caught the sun, up on the dark curve of a hill, over a field grown feral with winter stalks of queen-anne’s-lace, just as the clouds burned a…
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Storm
83 wordsThere you are,the feathered edge of the cedar, black and purplein this bloom of dark water. Together we hearthe rush of far-off wind,the trembling leaves,the gathered rain,flowing in small canyonson the bark,and with each gust I worry you might slip over my head that the flow of water might loosen your roots,and there is nothing…
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