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The Fern Tree
313 wordsYou do not sleep, fern tree. You stand awake, with moonlight on your shoulders. Behind you, Venus descends, slows, and dissipates, like a stone into water, but you do not move. At dawn the steller’s jays sway on your branches. Their feet clasp, and together you and the birds rustle, touched by the shallow milk…
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Behind the Fog
136 wordsWhen I see fog, I think of sunlight. I think of the string of clear days at the beginning of each December where the sky blushes blue and cold. I think of a stream I once saw, tucked into a shore-pine forest by the ocean, how I wandered there at dawn in a sea of fog…
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Past and Future
205 wordsHow can we ever belong to this place? Here, lands were stolen and degraded, peoples were killed and sent away. Here, the future is threatened by rising waters, beetle-withered pine forests, dry winters; by emptiness, and loss. What’s already happened, and what is to come–they are two stone walls on either side of us. At…
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City Life
111 wordsThis is not enough. Grass, and horse chestnuts, purple-leaved plums and the maples whose names I do not know. They are lovely, their leaves shaken off by last night’s wind, but behind their nakedness is the lined gray pavement, the dense, impermeable skin, where my footsteps are visitors. At night I look for the stars,…
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