Now the silverfish have eaten your sad dictionary. Once you stood behind the counter, ribbons in your hair, you measured and cut yardage for the buxom ladies. And now a pile Continue reading →

Surprise comes slowly to a redwood. So slowly we might think it remorse or grief or the color brown or the feeling of that which has not been done. Not dropped Continue reading →

We watch what we think is hesitance                                 as its long legs enter the stream’s edge Continue reading →

The heart won’t make its point. Why not let you go out into the sun where blossoms burst and rush like oxycontin? The chickadee’s precision in the pear chastises my ear Continue reading →