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Trading Soil for Pavement
145 wordsThis was all once alive. The abrupt smell of pavement was once the citrusy soil, the slight tingle of fermentation, undeniably sweetened by aging leaves of hemlock and maple, dark orange and a flat, slippery sort of yellow. Insects, bacteria, the microbiome. Once, long ago, the early evening brought robins together on tight tree elbows.…
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The Truth About Stars and Rivers
322 wordsThere’s this nostalgia I feel when I walk along the river. I feel it also when I watch half-cloudy sunsets, and when I look for Orion and Canis major on winter nights. The cold sinks through my wool slippers as I stand on the concrete deck alongside my house. I tighten my robe’s sash and squint. Fuzz filling…
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The Autumnal Equinox
98 wordsThe sky is not empty. Not yet, but soon. Inside the wind is a Turkey-Vulture. Wings stroked by clouds, against blue that is steady, or moving, or both; the swishing silence of deep ocean, where perhaps the Turkey-Vulture escapes the songs of smaller birds, songs that writhe in his throat with longing. What might he himself sing? Of…
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Heeding The Call of the Wild
781 wordsThe poet Robert Service, according to my high school English teacher, has always been considered more of a word-rhymer than a literary artist. “This isn’t really what we would call quality poetry,” my teacher said when I asked her to approve my choice of poem. Our senior year assignment was to memorize and recite a poem to the class. We…
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