BLOG
-
Rain on the Ocean
88 wordsThe ocean is waiting there, pock marked in the way that dew hangs from jeweled firs, how itmelts the soft snow beneath it, and farther out, the white painted light is made ghostly where the horizon meets it and the white foam fray and the clouds brushed and bruised and half the ocean drawn through…
-
Moonlight on the Windowsill
103 wordsI see the moonlight blank against the windowsill sunk into the grains of wood, into the etchings of pencils and pressed fingernails carved like insect-scarred walking sticks we used to find in the forest, and mossy flakes from screen windows open too long in the summer, and they are golden, far too golden, and I…
-
Fallow
156 wordsAll of this—these windowless warehouses, these factories made, seemingly, of styrofoam; these used-car prairies that glare pink in the sunset. All of this used to be fields. Just ten years ago there was a cabin, there, made of rain-darkened wood, roof caving in, half rotten, clung over with moss, and there was a wagon wheel…
-
Far-Fallen Wind
55 wordsNight wind warmed by the creekside, its water running plump above milky stones, and a cedar branch brushed low by the day’s rain, its bristled fingers braided into shadow, tall as the ferns as the snowberry as the quilted sky, brown in its cloudlight and seaweed-blue between, the water perfectly silent against the far-fallen wind.
Follow Me
Learn More
