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Sun Smoke
1–2 minutesThe maples and horse-chestnuts soften, their casted shadowstorn from the sun,cracked open by golden smoke,the sun painted,not long ago, like a strange, eclipsed moon, or the eye of some god,too fierce to look upon from our small earth.
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Wildfire
1–2 minutesWhite dark and a hummingbird pressed into juniper,a ghost-god,wings unseen,and, hours later,a hawk, tail stripes larger than a planet’s rings,and, at dusk, a family of robinsbathed in the pink mottle,their sun kept in a drawer and cotton ball muffled,and a batflying above them.
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Siouxon Creek
1–2 minutesLast night we camped by a waterfall. Even at midnight you could see it, a pale blue ribbon laced between moon-painted firs. All night we heard its gentle pouring, which by morning had become as smooth to our ears as the lap of the sea. Around the fire, we told stories about the beginning. How
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Chickadee Funeral
1–2 minutesThe cottonwoods told me that summer would end soon. I was already nostalgic for it, and for other summers that had passed. Dark clouds gathered over the treeline, warmed by the wind, touched by the grassy smell of late-August, as I made my way up the path, and greeted the false-solomon’s-seal, the ocean spray, the
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