The rocks were caught by child’s eye, and changed with the sunset into horns and antennae, goring and grinding, and going off. Bumped into the night. ________________________________________________________________________ You can find more of A. J. Huffman’s work here, here and here.
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. [...]
“Darwin’s book was rather heavy, but by close application, the young student thought he learned what the scientist was ‘driving at.’”—Nephi Anderson, Dorian Elder Joseph F. Smith, Jr. knows the Ford Model T as thoroughly as he knows his scriptures, and he knows those better than any man in the Church. So, with the automobile [...]
In Spring the gardener finds out death– What fruit tree limbs did not overwinter. Some stems twig and bud and bloom, Some stems splinter. I lost a limb some seasons back From my own flesh–my firstborn daughter. Time healed the break, but I still lack The apples of her laughter. __________________________________________________ Adam Greenwood lives with [...]
This is a rewrite of an earlier post published here on WIZ. One dark night in January of 2010 Mark and I made a last minute run to the only grocery store within 22 miles. On our return trip home, I drove with the SUV’s highbeams on, because we live on a rural road where, [...]
In my part of the spring world, the arrival of the vernal equinox has not felt much different from the arrival of the autumnal equinox. The green flame is burning unusually low for this time of year. Winds have been abrasive and cold. Usually, the Big Green is well on its way by now, but [...]
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. [...]
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 [...]
Let no man beguile you of your reward in a voluntary humility and worshipping of angels – Colossians 2:18 She thinks I am praying to her Kneeling before her Extending my hands to her Her Egyptian ancestors earned their worship Guarding food from mice, fighting cobras Giving shape to perfume and ointment jars Instead she [...]
Through tangles of blackberry canes gallops a regal creature of the timber: Odocoileus virginianus, or the white-tailed deer. This one is a buck with cracked antlers, his coat birch brown. He sniffs the air before crossing the man-made paths. This veteran has survived so many hunting seasons because of his respect for orange vests and [...]