When the cold wind blows
Does it startle you, shake you from oblivion, draw you to attention, to your fear? Or do you turn away …
Does it startle you, shake you from oblivion, draw you to attention, to your fear? Or do you turn away …
How the rain pours down with heavy boots on our roof. We hover close to our papers someways happier for …
Slowly, slowly life comes back. Hair-fine roots far below the surface muster a wiggle, a stretch, and stir for us …
Upon opening The Way It Is after a week that convinces me that this dark marathon is much longer than …
maze of brown at the center, trees empty of leaves, row after row stretching to scattered hazel edging the lake, …
Puddles of snow pool under shrubs – miniature glaciers for voles to cast through. Sparrows, geese, all as one gather …
Evergreens surround your house, a fortress wall heavy with snow. In black recesses I wade, the snow bounds off the …
Dusts of snow edge the earth, uneven lines mark sun-warmed pavers. With under-parts protected, statuary gather new relief, dying grasses …
Earth grieves each November, again finds itself wailing in sorrow, refusing to get out of bed. For its own tears …
o’ wondrous pain, illuminating discomfort — how you have painted this earth to suit your ease, the slow swing of …