The so and many ways to sing the breeze, whether it is breath or breathed, or hummed in trees unleaved, bison-heard on plains or high-crested seas, it is wind that rattles here – here upon the eaves. Church bells are not pealed, but pushed pitched rods hung from the porches of time, piped and true […]
Fifteen and taken in the first snow. That was Tuesday. That was the bridge and the last commute from the first job – too young for black ice and traffic. There will be a cross come Spring, there is always a cross come Spring. But for now it is hard grounds, black ice and green […]
Again today a study proves our immortality. To run, however long, reduces the risk of death by twenty percent in a sample of two hundred fifty thousand. And now they are running. Running against the certain stone. Running slim trails of hope, gathering ticks as they brush the closing blades. The path gets thinner, old […]
I lay a palm on a wall of quartzite, red, unhewn and beckoning my lips to count the strata, number each compression from heel to nail, down below the rooted fissure, up above the quiet smirk of a creek – one hundred. And as I drag my eyes upward, to where the scrub oak and […]
Come to me vagrant, O Death: starved of bone, starved of lung, dime-eyed and savage. Do not come to me gorged and gorgeous, for it is only when you have known true hunger, withered to a stalk, submitted to beggary and stale breads, you may come to my door, my table. It will be then, […]
She was a slim volume really, a short read, an afternoon in shades of cypress, conceived on her own costly parchments. She prefaced a day a warning, that if any eye should scan her lines to her own bleak skin, to her own terse margins, to the limbs akimbo nonsense implied by her scrawling, there […]
Could there be a requisite span of mourning – some sentence meted out by the dead to be thrown black out into a day without – wistfully walking away? I picked a stone on a path as I thought of you. I picked a stone for my pocket, and there, in my pocket is my […]
