Paper’s advent may have done more to shape human culture than anything. Where would we be without it? No books, no deeds, still recording laws on tablets of gold and stone? Scrawled Sonnets of Shakespeare in the dust on the ground? No notebooks of da Vinci with drawings of flight, no newspapers, no letters home, no love letters full of […]
tilting Earth moves, inexorable, grinding slowly in her rhythmic journey around the Sun. shadows stretch slanted, low and long, calligraphy, inscribed of Autumn’s hand. a feather’s shaft pierces the ground and there stands, a sundial, marking hours of passion in sliding daylight. in the new darkness of morning we sleep. I am drawn, a rare […]autumn, Darkness, Dreams, Earth, forest, Light, Mystery, Passion, Sleep
I tend to be far more interested in real things than virtual things. I want real life – I don’t do FaceBook and I’m not much interested in social network friendships. I like to smooth my hand over the skin of my lover’s face so much more than I enjoy seeing his latest Tweet. I […]paper, tactile
Nine balloons drift, silent, through quiet yellow air in the eastern sky. Field grasses turn gold overnight. The trees are holding out for just a little more Summer – never let it end, they say, clinging long to the green though it is beginning to look threadbare and worn. Daily they lose the battle for […]autumn, seasons
I looked out of our front window early this morning. Three things – first — the small neighbor girls, who are so curiously enchanted by everything about us — who, using their hands to shade their eyes spied, giggling, through the glass of our front door, stealing a glimpse into the secluded magic that must […]children, love letter, seasons
Today I read there are only 59 adult wolves left in Yellowstone. And f~@#ing Exxon spilled 54,000 gallons of toxic sand tar oil into the Yellowstone River. Perhaps it is better to just go out and wander into her deep heart than despair indoors by reading the news?
the white-hot day is blinding tired. lightning lacerates a darkening sky. I turn my palm to cradle four or five large drops as the rest land sizzling on the sidewalk.
“Hey Dudes, what’s with those humans playing raven speak at us out of those little handheld things?” “I dunno. And why do they keep repeating the same thing over and over again? Buzz bomb the black and white dog….” I heard a couple of ravens laughing the other day, maybe the real joke was that […]jokes, ravens