While I’ll take life in any season, the transition from summer to fall is bumpy for me. This year, the melancholy I often feel during these pre-winter months has been accented by various family crises. Still, as the song goes, How can I keep from singing?
Tell me, she whispered, when the kids were down And the dark of day had drifted over like a welcome shroud, What is your love?
Look with wonder on the world And on the walkers in the world Familiar and strange as if on God, For gods they are, unknowing.
I wish I had a home— No, not my own— A place I’d shared with others All the summers of my life Or all the winters. But, as it stands, the candidates Are fallen into disrepair (False friends!), or usurped by Some false, pretending owner (Who would, her eyes askance, Refuse me ingress or relief), […]
The world is in chaos, but Tom Turner is frying two eggs and a side of bacon. His wife, Mattie, sits at the kitchen table eating cold cereal and watching the news on her tablet. Revolutions are whittling away at South America. Europe is on the brink of collapse. China is squeezing the U.S. dry. […]
As part of Wilderness Interface Zone’s Love of Nature Nature of Love Month, we thought it would be fun to run a Valentine haiku chain. This is a just for fun song and dance event for many voices and dancing levels. A haiku is a classical Japanese poetical form, usually 17 syllables all in a […]
The trees in river country know the wind, and how to bend in winter blasts. They hold snow and take the water. They change color— as the leaves of maples turn, so too a sister to her brother. There are deep roots in a certain field, grown up on our name past—fed by ashes of […]
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 […]
Part Two of a three-part post. To read Part One, go here. Nearing the grove, I find the trail leading into it paved with a light mosaic of shed brown and yellow leaves. I resist the impulse to resent fall’s steady encroachment into summer’s back edge. When I reach the interior of the woods, Belle, […]
What a mystery is the air, what an enigma to these human senses! [T]he air is the most pervasive presence I can name, enveloping, embracing, and caressing me both inside and out, moving in ripples along my skin, flowing between my fingers, swirling around my arms and thighs, rolling in eddies along the roof of […]