Nothing New…
i. Without warning the sky can fall in neat needle-stitched rows, precisely spaced and GPS guided to knife across terrain older than...
morning fog
morning fog hangs low over the trail as i run, the faint and familiar path leading me deeper into memory. on both...
your wildflowers
i. no flowers linger by the garden gate after this ice-cold winter. my gloves still lie in the mud room after these...
a smile (in passing)
with a lurch the train shudders from the station. moving slowly at first, it picks up speed causing trees to blur past...
a letter (ii)
i remember her letter. handwritten on white college-ruled notebook paper torn from it’s spiral ring which left a jagged edge of hanging...
white noise (in three movements)
i. butterflies are back in the yard after another cold winter. they drift in lazy circles over a sea of bone-white snowdrops...
from thinnest air
i. the opening line never appears to land precisely, despite rehearsals prior to the main event. and though they feel plucked from...
Afternoon Nor’easter
Cold rain hammers clay roof tiles, its staccato rhythm hypnotic in a room devoid of light. Through the speckled window, bare branches...