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Beginning of Time
72 wordsMaybe we can still remember the closed-in darkness long ago before we had eyes, and maybe we can remember the sensation of the jolting waters, thick with calcite and aluminum dust, the shallow ocean clicking against our keratin bodies, the dull, brainless consciousness softened into us, our lives dark and endless among the lacy mats…
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What The World Once Was
114 wordsThis is what the world once was, low wind across dimpled grasslands, a warm, bruised sweep musked with far-pressed rain, gall oaks whistling as air falls through them. This is what the world once was, a far, clear view, long to the east, to the blue shoulders of the Gorge, the river tucked there, imperceptible,…
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Spring River
211 wordsThe Willamette River has started to thin at the edges, its murky spring sediment swept downstream, emptied into the great confluence of the Columbia, meandering miles and miles before sinking later into the wide, slow Astoria estuary. And so now, if you look into the shallow waters of the Willamette, right along shoreline, you see…
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Shoulders of the Sun
54 wordsIt is early night. One side of the sky is bleached but halted, waiting for the rose-gold light to reach it, to slowly catch the edges of the kindling, the fibers curdled to a red so dark they are purple; a coagulated flame that simmers low, held steady on the shoulders of the sun.
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