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Archive for the 'Stewardship' Category

Field Notes #13 : Spider in the hand of a goodly snow

Tuesday, December 17th, 2013

Polar fleece. One of the best.  Inventions. Ever. My admiration for this virtuous fabric prompted me to do a bit of research on it. On Wikipedia, I came across this: “Aaron Feuerstein [inventor] intentionally declined to patent polar fleece, allowing the material to be produced cheaply and widely by many vendors, leading to the material’s […]

Field Notes #12: Who Has Seen the Wind? (Pt.3) by Patricia Karamesines

Tuesday, September 3rd, 2013

This is the third part of a three-part entry. To read part one, go here. To read part two, go here. Glancing at Belle, I can tell she needs water, and soon. I lead her away from the beaver ponds before she’s tempted beyond her ability to resist to drink from its giardia-laced teapots. I […]

And I Did Eat by Jonathon Penny

Monday, August 5th, 2013

The orchard offered fruit, And I did eat. The field imparted grain, And I did graze. The farm gave up the calf, And I consumed. Her mother furnished milk To quench my thirst. The market tendered goods Both fair and fine, Encumbrances unique To tempt my tongue And fill my eyes and ears With vague […]

An Interlude by Sally Cook

Tuesday, July 30th, 2013

                                              He was the stream and she the underbrush, The rain that fell upon his upturned face. She was the shadowed glade in evening’s hush That, blotting out the sun, absorbed its grace. […]

Goat Paths by Patricia Karamesines

Monday, July 15th, 2013

We are the Day Society: See how we skirt surefooted as goats the Crevasse of Desire. God is in the well-placed step that bears us above Death, while Beauty weeps for us beyond the goat paths.   By day, the way is clear, so complete, the ground floor and ceiling blue. We see where we […]

Memoirs Written in Rain by A. J. Huffman

Monday, June 10th, 2013

The lavender sky turns.  Soundless. Its silvered breath falls, sliding slowly over veined silk. The tiny bud ruptures.  Bending backwards (in time) it beads the ground with miniscule reflections, iridescent images bursting the same ideal: a perfect mirror of every dawn’s bloom. ____________________________________________________________________________________________ A.J. Huffman is a poet and freelance writer in Daytona Beach, Florida.  […]

Kristalltag by Sy Roth

Monday, March 18th, 2013

Space exhaled a puff of air. Caught in its stream pathless terrene thought it well to cleave a fresh path form a new road unzip the miles-thin protective layer. Aeriform meteoric hand punched through. Glass jugs exploded in a cosmic grand plie windows shattered crystalline light show creation’s crumble celestial chaff in its random wind. […]

Degrees of Coyoteness by Patricia Karamesines

Saturday, March 16th, 2013

This is a rewrite of a post published here on WIZ that I’m including in my book Crossfire Canyon. I’m posting the rewrite today in response to finding a bounty-killed coyote on this morning’s walk. April 8, 2009. As I walked out of a nearby canyon last week along a trail where I had previously […]

Better and better by Patricia Karamesines

Monday, March 11th, 2013

In my quest for perhaps a wrongly-remembered story about beavers in Yellowstone National Park, I’ve watched several national parks shows, including Ken Burns’ America’s National Parks series. Since we finished that show–worth the watch, by the way–I’ve looked for other, nature-toned documentaries. We saw that Amazon Prime would let us view PBS’s Nature series for […]

An Ode to Coal by Lee Allred

Tuesday, February 19th, 2013

Black seams skitter Through mantled rock, Crisscrossing mountains. Encrusted veins of blackened heart Hide within its poisoning death Until exhumed by grave diggers, Faces black with toil-worn greed.   Black smoke bellows In high desert air, Seeding clouds. Sooted walls of blackened lung Hide within its poisoning death Until exhaled by grave fillers, Faces white […]