In the morning, Amber woke to silence—the bird was still asleep beneath its cover and seemed to have disappeared like a magician’s assistant. Josiah had lit another fire and left a note and a pot of oatmeal with brown sugar and raisins for her. I’m at your place. No rush. You need to eat. –J. … Continue reading
Category Archives: Writing
Day 85 of 35
Mourning I went out into the mud and rain to watch stalled horses, nervous and full of heat, neigh and kick at thunder until the storm passed, and the ghost was given. Continue reading
Love / poetry / Poetry / Uncategorized / Writing
Day 83 of 35
Sometimes I pretend there was moonlight, ample. That your body was lit bright. That my eyes closed with no other choice. On other nights, I remember that it was dark. That there were no streetlights. That the stars, smothered by the clouds, could not see us, and all we had was touch. Continue reading
Day 78 of 35
The strange light of winter spoke in a dialect of dark— extended vowels that rambled on like a highway in New Mexico— threatening to keep the flowers. Continue reading
Love / poetry / Poetry / Uncategorized / Writing
Day 73 of 35
Skin lurid and out of sequence, seldom do these intervals lift the dawn close enough that I don’t need to squint, but this morning I am wide-eyed and there is a quality of light, gypsy and unfolding. I wait for it to find your body, mute. Continue reading
Fiction Writing / Musings / Poetry / Uncategorized / Writing
Day 70 of 35
There was a quiet hymn in the cars that passed on the street below the second story balcony. She stood in a summer dress that made him remember peacocks at the zoo his mom had taken him to when he was seven. He had forgotten about the zoo. In fact, it seemed to him that … Continue reading
Day 67 of 35
The shells I collected last summer kept their promise; the wind has waited all these months. I listen. Smile and hue return. Continue reading
Love / poetry / Poetry / Uncategorized / Writing
Day 65 of 35
Tonight, I crave chocolate cake. when yesterday I had forgotten there was sugar and cocoa and bakers who know what to do. Continue reading
Day 59 of 35
Amber left the Datsun up by the highway and walked the quarter mile into the park. The wind came from the west. When she stood here she knew where she was in respect to all 4 points on the compass. The entrance to the park faced east, and Reno was always north. She buried her … Continue reading
Day 49 of 35
Summer It was the 4th of July the mountains behind us burned and continued to for a month. The flames died down but we lost the summer to smoke. When finally our mothers let us as far as the pier, we could not bring ourselves to pull the fish from the water, so we didn’t … Continue reading
Untempered Glass 