Pond and Brook
I leave my Pond and Brook by the bedside, with its buzzing mayflies, fin-splashed surface, amoeba-soaked beach, and head downstairs, …
I leave my Pond and Brook by the bedside, with its buzzing mayflies, fin-splashed surface, amoeba-soaked beach, and head downstairs, …
The hill stands innocent as it always has – empty now, or perhaps drowsily crossed by weekend strollers. What is …
Does water remember as I make my way across her on this diagonal again? I clear a wake, paddles’ light …
leaning on a box in my cluttered breezeway my father’s spade pants, grip worn smooth, tail twitching, eager for his …
It begins with the scent of geraniums, bitter and hard, and my grandmother telling me not to touch because she …
you would think when walking through woods at night that we’d stumble — but instead we learn to find a …
is love — which is not really fair to say, for the three intertwine when you sit here, ready, and …
a night walk is never simple – shafts of gray light peel back tree bark and find squirrels opining through …
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